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transmascissues · 2 months

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it's silly but the biggest reason why im not into t yet is bc im so afraid of losing my hair. do you have any solutions/tips for it?

first of all, i don’t think it’s silly — it’s natural to be worried when hair loss is talked about by so many people as like…one of the worst results of aging for men. listening to my dad talk about how much he hates balding definitely did not make me feel particularly good about the knowledge that i may very well be joining him someday. i’m not saying the fear is right, because i don’t think hair loss is something awful that we should avoid at all costs, but it’s an understandable fear given the beauty standards we’re working with, and it’s one that a lot of us (myself included) feel.

one thing that’s helped me is just…paying more attention to the guys that i interact with on a daily basis. i’ve learned two things from it: 1) hair loss is super fucking common. i’d say it’s much harder to find an adult man who isn’t balding at all than it is to find one who’s completely bald. and 2) if you forget everything you’ve been told about how bad hair loss is, you’ll realize that quite frankly, every single one of those guys looks totally fucking fine. it doesn’t ruin their appearance and make them ugly, it looks totally natural and isn’t really even something you’d notice if you weren’t looking for it. we put so much weight on it but it’s really just not that big of a deal. i’ll hear my parents talk shit about men in my family who are losing their hair when i didn’t even notice a difference last time i saw them. it’s one of those things (like so many other appearance-related things) that you really only notice at all because you’ve been taught that you’re supposed to care about it.

this isn’t something i’ve done personally, but if you really want to desensitize yourself to the idea of it, embrace the time-honored queer tradition of just shaving your whole damn head! find out what you’d look like without hair, find out how you feel about it and what you can do that makes you feel good about your appearance without hair, test the waters while it’s still a temporary change and not something permanent. that way, it won’t feel like this big scary unknown, and you’ll actually have a frame of reference for your feelings about how you look without hair rather than accepting the societal assumption that you’ll inevitably hate it. if you don’t want to actually shave your head, you could also just fuck around with bald filters or photoshop and see what happens.

oh, and if you’re attracted to men, keep an eye out for guys who are bald or balding and also hot as fuck. in my experience, there’s no insecurity or potential future insecurity that being gay for other men hasn’t helped me with. just off the top of my head, i can think of a couple actors who i think are absolutely fucking gorgeous who have helped me get over my fears about losing my hair. despite what our anti-aging-obsessed world might want you to think, there is no such thing as a physical feature that automatically makes someone less attractive, and while making attractiveness less of a priority in your life is good, it can’t hurt to also give yourself some proof that actually, you might lose your hair and look hot as hell doing it.

basically, entertain the possibility that it won’t be a bad thing at all! whether that’s just because it turns out to be a neutral thing for you or because you end up actually liking it, it’s not an inherently bad thing. i’ve ended up liking a lot of things that were “supposed to” be bad effects of t — i love the weight i’ve gained and the new shape it gives my body, i get a lot of gender euphoria from the fact that my acne is now on parts of my face that i saw a lot of guys in high school get it and i’m not complaining about the scars i get from it either because i’ve always liked the added texture that acne scars give my skin, and so on. i think there’s a lot of joy to be had in the changes we’re taught to fear, once we look past that conditioning and actually explore how we feel about it.

but if it’s something you really don’t want and you just want to improve your chances of not having to deal with it, it’s not like there’s nothing you can do! products like finasteride (oral) and minoxidil (usually topical but i think there might also be oral versions) are pretty commonly used among trans guys, for the purpose of avoiding hair loss and for other reasons, and there are plenty of other anti-hair loss products out there (though i don’t know how effective any one of them might be). if it’s a big enough deal for you, you can just decide that you’ll go off of t if/when you start noticing signs of it, since no longer having higher t levels would stop the process in its tracks. and if you don’t find prevention options that work for you so it ends up happening, you can always explore different hair styles (judging by the pattern of hair loss i see in my family, i suspect that keeping my hair long would make it less obvious if i started losing mine), find your preferred method of covering it when you don’t feel good about it (personally i love a good beanie generally and would probably wear them a lot more if i didn’t have hair to worry about because my main complaint is the way they press my hair onto my neck), or just shave it all off if you don’t like the look of the partial balding but don’t mind a shaved head. the point being — you have options!

at the end of the day, whether you go on t or not, you’re going to see your body change as you age in ways that aren’t always going to be attractive to others or aesthetically pleasing to you. that’s just the reality of having a body. even if you never went on t, you’d get older and you might see your hair thin out even if you don’t bald, you’ll see your skin start to wrinkle and sag in places that used to be smooth, your metabolism might slow or your body fat might start to gather in new places; hell, you might lose your hair for a totally different reason and end up in the same place but without the benefits of having been on t that whole time. life is full of bodily changes like that. transphobes will fearmonger about the permanent changes of testosterone all day long but the truth is, there is no escaping permanent bodily changes. whether or not you go on t, your body now isn’t the same as it will be in 1 or 5 or 10 or 20 or 50 years, just like it isn’t the same as it was at any point in your life before now. our bodies are never supposed to stop growing and aging and changing throughout our lives. there’s no guaranteeing that we’ll love every single change our bodies go through, but that’s okay! there are so many things in life that are more important than the way our bodies look. even if you go on t and lose your hair and don’t like how it looks, your life won’t be ruined; plenty of other things will bring you joy and more than make up for the insecurities.

just think about the gender euphoria and relief from dysphoria that t could give you. would losing your hair be bad enough to outweigh all of that? or is it just the pressure of a society that decided balding is bad that’s making you fear one single change despite how much joy you could have if you let that fear go? only you can decide if going on t is worth the potential downsides for you, but i suspect that for most of us, the benefits of going on t far outweigh the possibility of side effects like hair loss happening down the line.

#when i say i love helping people beat their fears about t this is what i mean. i will simply write a whole essay about it #some people might think it’s silly to answer a question like this so extensively #but i don’t think it is! i feel like this is a really common fear but also one i don’t see talked about much #maybe because it’s so common among cis guys that people don’t see it as a question to ask in trans spaces? idk #but i think we should talk about it more. especially when transphobes use it as a way to talk shit about t #ask answered #testosterone #hrt #ftm hrt #hair loss #trans men #transmascs

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mia-ugly · 9 months

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In honour of Good Omens Season 2

HAVE A SLOW SHOW FICLET with thanks to @weatheredlaw for the amazing graphic ❤️❤️❤️ how we doing fam

It’s a kid on set that first tells him.

Not really a kid, but anyone less than thirty seems a kid to him these days (ugh, that’s a loathsome thought.) Jiyana’s a queer and pink-haired punk type, rainbow pin on their jacket, trans-pride flag tattooed on their inner wrist. The first time he met them, the whole wirey confident glittery thing made his gut clench with - what was it - joy and gratitude but also envy? Maybe? (because what must it be like to be that young and that certain of yourself? What must it be like to have the whole world open in front of you? Not that there still isn’t a lot of shit to deal with, and in Merry Old fucking England there is More Shit than Otherwise, but. Still. It’s something Crowley thinks about. Sometimes. When he hasn’t had enough sleep or when he’s had too much of it.)

The kid came up to him Day One to mumble about “being a big fan” and once they wore a Warlock t-shirt to an afterparty (“Vintage!” they said cheerily, and Crowley wanted to swallow his own face at the thought of something from the 2010s being considered vintage, good Christ.)

Anyway, Jiyana tells him first.

“Congrats on the new season!” They’re beside him in the makeup trailer. Crowley doesn’t realise they’re talking to him, assumes they’re wearing AirPods or something, until George gives him a nudge with the powder puff.

“Er, yeah, cheers.” It’s too early to talk to anyone this perky. Then his exhausted, coffee-less brain takes a moment to catch up with his exhausted, coffee-less mouth. “Er, wait, what?”

“Warlock. Heard it’s coming back. Did I tell you I wrote a paper on it in, like, Grade 10? So cool, the GSA at my highschool used to have watch parties, I can’t wait to see what they do with your -“

“Wait -“ Warlock? It’s been bloody years. “Where’d you hear this?”

The kid starts to list off some sites or social media whatsits that Crowley has never heard of, so he just nods and pretends to understand, the same way he does when Az’s niece tries to explain some show called “Jojo’s Big Adventure” or something. Validate, validate, empathise. Just like Pepper taught him.

It’s probably nothing right? A rumour.

But it’s a rumour Az has heard too.

When Crowley gets home that night (they’ve rented a house in Buckinghamshire, even though the studio’s not two hours from their cottage) Az is on him immediately. Heard about it from his sister apparently, who got the news from one of the kids.

“Isn’t that exciting?” His face is all lit up and his hair is wet, bathrobe snugly belted around his waist. The house has an indoor pool, and there are little indents on Avery’s nose where his extremely attractive and sexy swimming-goggles must have been resting.

Crowley presses his lips to each mark.

“Not that we’ve been going hungry or wanting for work –” Az continues.

“You work too bloody much,” Crowley murmurs into his cheekbone.

“But I do love those characters. The whole thing wrapped up so nicely though – what more is there to tell? I wonder what the arc could possibly be.”

“I wonder what you’ve got on under this robe –”

“Anthony!” Az laughs in fake protest, tilting his head back so that Crowley can get his mouth on his throat. Yeah, that’s the ticket. Az tastes like chlorine, and maybe Crowley should join him in the shower after this. After a day in the studio, he could probably use it.

“Would you really want to do a series again?” Crowley asks after he’s finally let his husband go, turned to hang up his coat and thrown his bag on the nearest chair. “Awful lot of commitment. And you’ve that whole run at the Globe coming up, don’t rehearsals start in the spring?”

“We’ll have to see if Helen can mind the goats again while we’re in London.” Az has wandered into the kitchen, turned on the kettle. Crowley looks at the back of his neck (Crowley always looks at the back of his neck. Sometimes he dreams about it.) “If she’s free. I called her this morning to check in, Elmyra’s eating, so her anxiety must be getting better.”

“Cool, yeah,” Crowley says, casual and nonchalant and no big deal. As if Elmyra isn’t his favourite of the bunch and he doesn’t have a song that he made up and no one knows that he sings just to her. As if he didn’t hand feed her all night once because she wasn’t sleeping or eating and neither was he because he was so afraid this tiny rescue goat was going to starve to death, anyway whatever, super cool, who cares. “Is it weird that no one’s reached out to us, though? Do you think?”

“About the goats? Helen has my number –”

“No love, the Warlock thing.”

Az blinks at him, flutters his pretty blond lashes in an attractive, aggrieved sort of way. “You mean you haven’t heard from Beez?”

“I haven’t heard from anyone.”

“Oh.” Az thinks it over. “Well. Neither have I, actually. Do you – is that odd?”

“Maybe they’ve recast us with younger models.”

“They wouldn’t dare.”

“Gotta up the sex appeal of the whole thing. Jawlines. Cheekbones. Sexy results.”

“I –” Az goes a bit pink. Glances at Crowley and then away. “Fail to see how they could improve upon perfection.”

Crowley looks at his husband’s bathrobe and the slight scattering of silver chest hair and his hand on his tea cup and fuck off, his neck. His neck, his neck, who gives a shit about Warlock actually?

“Come over here and say that to my mouth.”

Avery smiles, and sighs, and he does.

ONE YEAR LATER:

Crowley opens the email from Beez.

He fuckin' closes it.

#a slow dumb show for you #slow show #good omens fanfic #fic what i wrote #good omens

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rynnaissance · 2 months

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ok so for future reference, if i ever do continue working on my fic, how do we think bell’s hells would be at driving cars in a modern au? i’ve got ideas, but i want to hear other people’s input.

here’s what i’ve got:

chetney: DO NOT GET IN A CAR WITH CHETNEY WHATEVER YOU DO. that senior citizen is batshit insane and he WILL road rage. if someone cuts him off then wherever he was going is forgotten because he has to tailgate that person now while yelling at them to pull over so they can “talk.” i can’t decide if he would have a really nice car or a really shitty one because honestly both fit. maybe a fancy truck for hauling wood?

orym: he’s your safest bet out of the hells if you want to get somewhere on time without fearing for your life. bro is a law abiding citizen of the road. he never loses his cool (unlike chet) and his car is always clean and smells super nice. he mostly listens to meditation style music, but he’ll let the other person have the aux because he’s genuinely curious to hear what they listen to. shout out to orym.

laudna: okay back to the insanity. ALSO DO NOT GET IN A CAR WITH LAUDNA! girlie pop should not be on the road. she’s blasting the weirdest fucking genres of metal imaginable, she can hear nothing else. the music only somewhat drowns out the horrible keening noises her car makes, as if it’s begging to die. that thing hasn’t been to the shop in decades and omits the occasional plume of black smoke that smell like burnt hair and buttered popcorn for some reason? i saw someone else talk about how she’s a crazy driver with everyone except imogen who she drives very well for and never blasts music, and i like that idea a lot.

imogen: it was her dad’s truck before her’s, a farm vehicle meant for rural roads with four wheel drive. it’s pretty beat up, but it’s reliable. imogen hates driving though, as it can be super overwhelming in the city, and prefers to go with laudna. outside of the city, on rural roads where you won’t see another car for miles, she finds it almost as relaxing as horseback riding. she likes to cruise around with her widows down, shamelessly listening to country music. yeehaw.

ashton: should you get in a car with ashton? depends on the day, as they are kind of a wild card. one day, it might be a chill drive with you two causally exchanging stories, like sober “what the fuck is up with that?” other times you better hold onto your seat because you are getting to your location regardless of how traffic is flowing. ashton is the person who cuts chetney off. it may be on purpose, no one knows for certain, but he always seems to manage to find the old man and make his day a little more difficult. if they see someone they know, they’ll lay on horn and yell, “hey asshole!” with a wave and a grin. the car itself is covered in stickers and sharpie graffiti, interior and exterior. you’ll always know it’s him.

fearne: does she have a license? she would say yes. the truth is no. fearne was never taught how to drive, she just kinda figured it out as she went along. because of ashton, she used to think honking is a friendly thing, but had to be informed by fcg that those people are not just saying hi, but are actually mad at her. she didn’t like that very much. she doesn’t seem to be aware that there are any dangers to driving. she’s almost always getting into crashes, which she responds to with a giggle and a “whoops(:” it’s a marvel she hasn’t been arrested yet. there’s also an angry possum that’s sometimes found in the truck of her car, so it’s best not to open it.

fcg: much like orym, fcg is a very safe person to drive with. although maybe a little annoying, as he’ll let everyone go before him at a four way stop regardless of if it’s actually their turn. sometimes though, when they’re under a lot of stress, they resemble chetney more. they won’t tolerate any bullshit from other drivers and yell at pedestrians to get out of the way. he’s been getting better about this though, but still.

#critical role #cr campaign three #bell’s hells #bell’s hells modern au #chetney pock o'pea #orym of the air ashari #cr laudna #imogen temult #ashton greymoore #fearne calloway #cr fcg #again i would love to hear other people’s ideas too

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aonungyoufuck · 1 year

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Runaway {pt 2}

Parts: One , Three

Synopsis: Small Family moment with your Brothers. Ao’nung confesses why he stayed. Ao’nung hissing at his mom

“Sister. I bring you my hunt today” Lo’ak said barging in as if you hadn’t been asleep.

Groaning, you rubbed your head as you sat up. “Eywa, Lo’ak you could have at least made noise just so i wake up normally”

“Sorry”

You could see Neteyam come up behind him and smacked him.

“You’ll be happy to know Everything is well in the family. Cant say Lo’ak hasn’t gotten into a few scuffles here and there however”

“ I have not!”

“Of course he did”

Neteyam nodded. He had always been able to confide with you as you two both had the same responsibility to look after your youngers. “I am guilty of it too tho. Had to make sure this Skxawng didn't get lost as sea as well”

“Translation: He wanted to have fun” Lo’ak Said slicing the fish he had Brought to you

You could only roll your eyes as you took a bit of the fruit that had been left there.

“I heard Ronal isn’t at all too pleased to know Ao’nung stayed here last night” Neteyam said

“HE STAYED HERE? AT NIGHT? WITH YOU?”

“Oh please I was asleep. Apparently the fool slept sitting” you spoke watching Lo’ak prepare your food. Luckily enough he was getting better and better. Perhaps your mother taught him a thing or two. “However, I am going to ask Ronal if she could Teach me. Not train me per say but hopefully something so i can repay her kindness. I mean once this baby is born its really just Tsireya. I would like to help her, you know?”

“Hmm Maybe. If Ronal would allow you such” Neteyam said Splitting the food to you three.

“Where’s The rest of the family?”

“Mom is preparing some food for Kiri and Tuk. I think Dad’s still Out with Tonowari? I dont know for what really tho so i cant really say” Neteyam spoke handing you bits and pieces of the fish and fruit.

It made you smile, and roll your eyes. You weren’t a child but it was nice of him to know he still cared for you as such. Even tho you werent at all that much younger than him.

“I see” You nodded as you continued to eat. You should give Lo’ak credit for the meat being prepared well.

“Its nice all of us. Eating like this”

“Yeah cause we don't eat” You spoke feeling a hard slap to your side. “LO’AK?”

“You know what i mean okay”

“Lo’ak do not hurt our sister. Cant you see she is on her deathbed”

“You both are the worst you know? It would be you dead if i hadn’t stepped in you know?”

It was just this for a while. You didnt count the seconds that passed. You just basked in it. But soon they had to leave. You bid them farewell and to tell the rest of the family to enjoy their night. As you sat there. Waiting. And it hadn’t been long till you heard the jostling of beads at the door.

“You may come in”

To no one's surprise but maybe Ao’nung himself. He stepped in. “Mother brought this” he spoke, handing you the bowl of very still Wet Algae along with some roots that had been boiled alongside it. “Its suppose to help with any internal pain you may feel"

“Thank you” If it was bitter tasting well you didnt have to let him know. “ i heard you got one nasty cramp on your back since you stayed here last night”

“Well you heard wrong”

“Ao’nung. I saw you” You said giggling a bit to see his ears flatten.

“Alright well what do you want me to do? You were basically giving me your last words last night. Cant exactly sleep knowing id be blamed for leaving you alone” He said moving the mess your brother’s didnt exactly clean up.

“Im sorry i left you on such a bad note” You apologized. Drinking the last bit of the bland broth and chewing on the roots.

“Man. Your Brothers suck at cleaning you know?”

“They tried their best” You could only chew harder. The question is harboring in your mind “may i ask you something?”

“You already did. But go on” Ao’nung sat in front of you.

“Do you think, I could ask your mother to teach me some stuff? Not Tsahik training or anything of that sort. But just to help her when your sibling is born?”

“I mean i dont think she’ll like it all too much. But she's a reasonable woman. So i know she'll teach you if you ask” Ao’nung took your fruit bowl from you and began eating “But you are the most Reasonable from your siblings too. Given you haven’t gotten into fights and you have learned our ways faster than your siblings. Well aside your sister”

“ i guess you’re right, Maybe i did more good in not joining in on kicking your ass”

“Pff. You think you can beat me?”

“In anything Fish lips”

Ao’nung couldn't help but laugh. Making you smile as you watched.

“I think this is the first time i heard you laugh like that. Its nice” you smiled at him looking at the floor as you felt your hair fall down.

“Was the way i laughed before ugly or something?”

“Way to ruin the moment” you laughed a little rubbing your temple. “I meant in a sense where you aren't laughing out of mocking someone y'know?”

“Oh”

“Yeah oh” You Were getting tired. The food and the pain numbing as you laid down. “Now if you may. You better get going before your mother gets mad for you staying here again” you didn’t wait for a respond. Not that you could hold the sleep coming to you

But Ao’nung didnt move. His spear now at his side as he sat between your sleeping form and the only entrance to this place. He didn't know why. But something in him told him to just protect you while you were in this vulnerable state.

He thought himself crazy. Why was he so persistent on caring for you? Why did he agree with his mother? Why wasn’t he bothered? But seeing you just lay there made him think. Made him fall back on seeing your body heave and wheeze with the pain of having an open wound. You were nearly dead. You almost died. It did not only affect Tsireya but himself too.

He just kept watch grip tightening when he heard the faintest of noise. Tail laying atop of you making sure you kept breathing. Letting out a low hiss when he saw the curtain open. But quickly dropping his ears.

“Ao’nung! Its time you head home” His mother spoke. Stern and cold. Looking down at you as you didnt stir.

“But”

“No, I will not argue this. You are to go home and she will be sleeping here tonight alone. You can see her again tomorrow evening. I dont know why you want to but you can then. For now go home and head to bed” She ordered leaving no room to argue.

She watched as he bit back his tongue. Standing up spear in hand as he walked out. Ronal only turned to look at you. Placing the wet paste on top of the sheer wraps around you. “ I dont get what this boy sees in protecting you. You are safe and alive. It should be enough” She muttered out.

“Nete..yam”

She looked at you. Your worried expression trembled as your hand shook and moved slightly, reaching out. She could only sigh in exhaustion. ‘Soon’ she thought as she had to think. She would rather swallow her pride than let Neytiri help her as she had offered for helping her children. But realistically what other option was there, she thought.

“Hush now. You are well as is he” she could only whisper as if to ease your worried mind. Eywa had saved you, and that should be enough.

#avatar the way of water #atwow #atwow imagines #ao'nung x reader #aonung x reader #aonung #ao'nung #ao'nung x y/n #ao'nung x you #neteyam #kiri avatar #tuktirey #lo'ak sully #sully family

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ooglybooglycomfortstories · 5 months

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What Am I to You pt 2 - Sukuna x Reader

Um, so I totally forgot that I said I would write this part yesterday because I got an email that made me forget BUT I just finished working on this and if you guys are in need of a part 3, I shall deliver. I hope you enjoy!

tw: Sukuna (obv), tiny bit of angst (a lot less this time), female reader, not much else I can think of

wc: 1.1k (my fingers hurt)

10 days.

10 days since you and him talked.

10 days since you told him you never wanted to see him again.

10 days… since you started to miss him again.

You sat across the dining room table from Yuji. Occasionally the two of you would have a meal together when Yuji wasn’t busy with his missions. Unlike you, Yuji chose to continue on these missions and also occasionally taught the new students that funneled in and out of Jujutsu Tech. You on the other hand chose to work as a medical examiner. Of course, however, you only examined the bodies of Jujutsu sorcerers.

The words you had yelled at Sukuna began to haunt your mind and you felt pathetic for it. Even Yuji who was usually oblivious noticed your change in mood. Not to mention how quiet you were. Yuji looked for words to gently question you, he wasn’t the best when it came to comforting someone and he didn’t even know what was wrong.

“Y/n? You’ve been really quiet lately, are you okay?”

You quickly look up at him and force a smile before nodding.

“Yeah… I’m okay…”

Yuji although usually oblivious, knew you were faking it. He kept quiet for a moment before noticing you were staring at his cheek. He was confused for a moment before he realized that Sukuna usually appeared there occasionally to annoy them.

“Did Sukuna do or say something to you?”

You tense up and Yuji catches on. He sighs and sets down the fork he had been eating with.

“Wanna talk about it?”

There’s a long moment of silence as you remain stiff and unmoved. You aren’t sure if you should tell him until you notice the concern in his eyes. You give in and nod.

“Yeah… Just don’t be upset with me”

“I won’t”

You take a deep breath and begin to explain your encounters with Sukuna and how you felt terrible that you had hidden these encounters from him. You continue to explain the fight that you had with Sukuna 10 days ago and how he is now ignoring you. Yuji nods along with your every word, seemingly sharing your sympathies. As you finish speaking, he finally responds.

“I’m surprised he hasn’t tried to fatally hurt you. It certainly does sound like you said. I think you both have feelings for each other”

Yuji states it so bluntly as if the thought doesn’t phase him. You sit there in shock for a moment.

“But… He let me kiss him using your body…”

“I know. But that’s the thing. You were kissing him, not me. We might share the same body but we lead two different lives”

You feel tears threaten to spill at Yuji’s tolerance to the situation. He was so patient with you and it brought so much relief.

“He’s grunting at me you know”

You look at Yuji confused for a moment before realizing who he is talking about.

“Sukuna is?”

“Who else?”

You smile softly and look down at your food, picking at it. It’s not really anything to smile about, but the thought of him even bothering Yuji makes you want to giggle.

“I think he’s being a coward by not talking to you”

Yuji knew what he was doing when he said that. He was trying to provoke Sukuna into taking control and actually talking to you. He knew exactly how to irk him because the moment those words left his lips, Sukuna’s dark markings formed around the once clean skin. He glared across the table at you as if you were the one to blame.

“Brat, you annoy me”

You offer him nothing but a smile and for some reason, that bothered him. However, he didn’t get a chance to comment before you spoke to him.

“I missed you, you know…”

There was that feeling again that Sukuna had tried so hard to avoid. The tugging in his chest that made him hoist himself from the seat and walk in front of you. Planting himself there with a glare.

“How do I deal with this ridiculous love feeling that you told me I have?”

You look at Sukuna in shock and clear your throat.

“Well… usually people take care of those feelings by being in a relationship with the person that makes them feel that way but I doubt you would-”

“We are in a relationship now then. What does that mean?”

You pause and gawk at him.

“It means we do things like cuddling, kissing, getting to know each other deeper… It’s basically the step before marriage”

“Like a concubine”

“No, not like a concubine. Concubines are only there for pleasure. You don’t typically marry a concubine unless you’re a shallow person… this is more like having a best friend that you live with for the rest of your life eventually”

Sukuna ponders the thought of this relationship for a moment and nods.

“Very well. Whatever makes this feeling less annoying. But do anything that displeases me and I will not hesitate to kill you.”

You nod and smile at Sukuna. Was this actually happening or was this a fever dream? You shook the thought away and stood up from your seat, empty dish in hand as you went and grabbed Yuji’s half-empty dish and took care of them. Sukuna watched you before sitting at the kitchen island and studying as you washed the dishes.

It took a while before you finally noticed that Sukuna’s curious eyes were on you. The act of cleaning dishes was obviously not a new concept to him so what had him staring. You began to ask questions.

“Do you want to help?”

“No”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes”

“...Are you hungry?”

Sukuna’s eyes came up to meet yours. Technically he didn’t need to eat and yet the thought of you cooking made his heart speed up like crazy. Without thinking he nodded. You knew curses didn’t need to eat and weren’t hungry for human food but you didn’t tell him you knew that. Instead you offered him a welcoming smile.

“What would you like?”

Sukuna thought about it. He thought back to the foods he had never been able to eat since he was locked away as a cursed object. He hadn’t had the chance to eat miso soup or rice in what felt like a millenia.

“Rice and miso soup”

His voice is plain and blunt but you see a hint of childish excitement in his eyes as his wall breaks for a moment before being put back up. You smile and nod, washing your hands and beginning to prepare the food. Silence filled the room and yet, this was probably the happiest you had felt in a while. You hoped that you weren’t dreaming and you hoped that this feeling would never go away.

There was no longer a need to know who you were to him.

You were his solution.

And that was enough.

#jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk sukuna #sukuna #sukuna ryomen #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x you

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benedictscanvas · 1 year

Note

Hi! Would I be able to request something for Steve rogers? I just had my period and had such excruciating cramps it made me think of this. Reader coming to Steve for comfort when the cramps are unbearable, him although a bit awkward comforting and helping as much as he can. Something in de lines of him getting a warm towel etc and reader calling out for him whereas he reply’s with I’m coming! And the other avengers hearing the interaction and thinking something else is going on ( if you’re comfortable with that!) awkward breakfast scene where they all tease them. Reader finding it very awkward and doesn’t go to him the next period because they think he doesn’t want to anymore. But him being super worried instead because he thinks reader hasn’t gotten their period yet and thinks something is wrong instead. Sorry for this being so all over the place! 🙈

don't apologise lovely, this is a great idea, especially as someone currently investigating whether or not i have endo, i feel you and i send you all the love in the world. we got this <3 || 2.2k words, tw periods, reader jokes about a hysterectomy, suggestive themes

"Steve? Are you asleep?"

It may have been a silly question. Steve went to bed at midnight sharp every night and had done ever since you'd known him, getting up at a sensible 7am to complete his early morning gym session in peace. As it was only 22:30, he was almost certainly awake and you were regretting ever coming to his door. You were hit with another wave of cramps, however, and clutched at your stomach in desperation.

Steve appeared in his doorway, as cheery as ever. His face fell when he saw you doubled over, and he reached for you when you looked up with pain etched onto your face. You felt yourself tear up at the simple comfort of his large hands at either side of your neck, thumbs holding your chin up to look at him.

"Oh sweetheart," he said soothingly, his tone a world away from when you'd heard him training some new recruits earlier, all yelling and harsh edges, "Are you sick?"

"Jus' my period," you said simply, feeling your eyes water under his gaze. You saw him stiffen a little and you cursed yourself - you hadn't even thought about his attitude towards this kind of thing, or the fact that being raised 100 years ago might affect his knowledge on the matter. You gulped and tried to pull away from his comforting hands, but he held firm, "Sorry, I don't know why I came here."

He seemed to snap himself out of his own discomfort as he witnessed your own, letting go of your neck only to wrap an arm around your waist and practically carry you over to his bed, where he sat you down.

"Hopefully cause you knew I'd want to take care of you," he said softly, kneeling in front you with a sheepish smile, "Not sure I know exactly how, but you can teach me."

"You don't have to," you said quickly, "I've grown up with men who were comfortable with this sort of thing and I didn't think. It's okay to be out of your depth with it if you weren't taught."

He grinned at you, funnily enough. Two warm hands landed on your knees and rubbed small circles into every bit of bare skin he could find, grateful that your hoodie stopped mid-thigh.

"You're sweet. I wasn't taught much, but I know that it's nothing to be embarrassed about and that it must really hurt, baby. I'd take it all away if I could."

"You'd pay for my hysterectomy?" you muttered, cracking a smile.

He chuckled, because he'd heard you say it before, jokingly, to Nat and had asked what it was. Nowadays he knew all threats to remove your uterus were in jest, but the first time he'd heard it he'd gone a little pale at the thought.

"And risk not having little versions of us running about the place someday?" he asked, half-joking himself. The children discussion would probably be one you'd have a little down the line, since you'd only been dating for a few months, but it was something you already joked about more often than you probably should have, "Not quite yet. Can I get you anything else?"

It was human nature to want to say no, but it would have been a lie. You and Steve didn't lie to each other.

"Actually, my hot water bottle? It's on my nightstand, I forgot it when I came to find you. It just goes in the microwave, a minute and a half, if you're sure you don't mind."

He shook his head, hands now travelling from your knees right up to the tops of your thighs and back down again. Nothing in the touch but warmth and a little bit of love maybe. You'd only exchanged 'I love you's last week, but you were already beginning to recognise all the ways in which he'd told you he loved you before he said it out loud.

"I'm on it. You want food too? Chocolate?"

You narrowed your eyes at him.

"Somebody's been reading," you said, and he looked a little guilty, even though it only made him sweeter.

"A little. Heard you mention to Wanda it was coming up, I wanted to be able to help you," he murmured, leaning in to press a lingering kiss to your temple as he got up to grab your things, "So glad you came to me, honey. Gonna take such good care of you."

"Y'always do," you said, tired and happy. There was fresh wave of pain rolling through your abdomen, sharp and stabbing, and you held onto it quietly as you smiled at Steve's retreating form. At his broad back, the muscles bunched and stretched out against one of his too-tight t-shirts. You loved those t-shirts almost as much as you loved him.

Maybe more than him, actually. There were really tight.

By the time he returned, you'd taken the initiative to curl yourself under his covers, feeling the telltale sweat on your forehead that told you the flow was getting heavier and the cramps were about to get worse. You told Steve as much through a grimace and he pouted his sympathy.

"Cuddles or space?"

It was one of your favourite phrases. The two of you said it to each other often, with both answers being totally acceptable and inoffensive to the other. It had been years since either of you had been in a proper relationship and with that came a penchant for independence neither of you wanted to shake. Some of your favourite days with Steve had been spent on opposite sides of the sofa, with only your feet on his lap for contact.

Right now, you needed a little more of him.

"Maybe just a hand on my stomach?" you asked, tentative in being too specific, "I think anything else might be a little smothering right now."

He nodded like he understood and you got the feeling he was really trying to. He crawled into bed beside you, placed his hand holding the hot water bottle against your stomach. You had to move his hand to the correct place, but you sighed in praise once he'd found it.

"Anything you need," he reassured once again, with another shorter kiss to your temple. You closed your eyes and focused on the feeling of his hand and of being so openly loved. Sometimes it was like a cramp of its own on your heart.

Then the cramps got worse and there was nothing distracting enough to take away from them.

Steve coaxed you through every wave. Told you how well you were doing, how horrible this was, how much he wished he could take on every bit of pain you'd ever felt and carry it around with him instead. It got a little dramatic at times, in fact, but in your state it was exactly what you needed and it seemed he knew that. He wasn't usually quite so affectionate with his words.

At one point, he simply had to get up for a toilet break, even though you could tell he'd been desperately trying to hold it. Another wave of pain hit just as he was washing his hands and you cried out despite yourself, the tears springing anew.

"I'm...ugh, coming!" there was a groan halfway through his sentiment that made you furrow your brow, but it turned out he'd stubbed his toe on the doorframe in his rush back to you. Despite your own pain, you'd managed a chaste kiss to his collarbone to soothe him and it seemed to do wonders.

When the pain finally subsided a little, it was around 2am and you'd royally messed with his nighttime routine.

"Sorry it's past your bedtime," you told him quietly when you were both finally trying to go to sleep. You could tell he was waiting for you before he allowed himself to succumb to sleep. You were both lying on your sides facing each other, just your pinkies locked together in your usual, minimal night-time embrace.

"S'okay sweet," he slurred, tired as could be. You tightened your pinky around his, "Wake me if you can't sleep."

You nodded, then let yourself drift off if only to ensure he got as much sleep as possible.

~~~

When you woke, it was just before nine in the morning and it took everything within you not to turn over and try to fall asleep again. You knew that breakfast was only served until around half nine around here though, at Tony's insistence, because "anything after that would be brunch, and we're not doing a daily brunch dipshits".

Steve was gone without a trace, although you were hoping he hadn't got up for his early workout without getting himself a little more sleep.

There was a trace of Steve, you found, as you swung your legs out of bed and prepared to stand. On the nightstand, he'd left pain medication, water and a freshly warm water bottle that told you he couldn't have been gone too long. One of his hoodies, soft and large enough to drop to your thighs had been left draped at the end of his bed, so you tugged it on over your pyjamas with a wry smile as you headed out.

The breakfast table was sparse - so many of these heroes having such early starts it made your head spin. But Tony was there, alongside Sam and Maria and, most importantly, Steve.

Silly-sweet Steve whose whole face lit up when he saw you traipse in. You made your way over to him with a greeting smile to the rest of the group.

"Tuckered out, Y/N?" Tony asked before Steve could even greet you with the soft morning murmur you loved. Sam instantly elbowed him in a way you couldn't explain and Steve was glaring at him too, his face starkly different to when you'd just walked in.

"Drop it, Tony."

Tony tuts. You hesitate to take the seat your hand was resting on, just in case.

"Nothing to be embarrassed about, Cap, we're all human," he grins, then his face falls dramatically, "Unless...there is something to be embarrassed about? Scared Y/N might expose your poor...performance for us?"

"Steve, what is he talking about?"

This time it's Maria who cuts in before Steve can answer you.

"He's being a child. A few of us nearby heard some stuff from Steve's room last night and Stark cares more than he should. Probably because Pepper's cut him off again."

"Uh, excuse me, Hill-"

Tony was arguing back and forth with Maria rather vehemently, but you weren't really listening anymore. They thought they'd heard you and Steve having sex? It explained why Steve was staring daggers at the breakfast in front of him, but you couldn't think of anything that would've sounded like that.

"Steve!"

"I'm- ugh, coming!"

You had no idea how you hadn't heard the innuendo in it at the time. Your skin had gone up in flames. You picked up a plate and piled it high but you knew there was no way you could stay at this table and listen to Tony's teasing.

"I'm still not feeling great," you whispered to Steve, pressing a chaste kiss to the spot above his ear, "I'll see you later, honey."

"I'll come with you," he said easily, already beginning to get up but you pushed him back into his chair. The idea of adding fuel to the fire was too much for your slightly hormonal mind to deal with right now and you could even feel tell-tale tears behind your eyes. Fuck periods.

"No, you finish your breakfast," you smiled, even knowing it wouldn't meet your eyes, "Honestly, it's fine."

And you didn't give him a chance to argue, fighting to ignore the kicked puppy look he was sporting as you quickly walked out of the canteen. You could hear Sam telling Tony to look at what he'd done, but they were out of earshot soon enough.

~~~

The day had gone by painfully slowly and you were still in pain for most of it. The relief of the pain being a little better than the night before had soon worn off, and the residual pain was still enough for you to stay in bed most of the day and beat yourself up for it.

Even though you knew you were entitled, you'd had a text from Steve telling you he'd been called to some meeting a few blocks away, that he'd let you know when he was back. It had made you feel like you should be doing something too, but the next episode came on and you allowed yourself to sink back into the pillows.

You'd also spent the day beating yourself up for your reaction to everything that morning. You could blame it on your period or that you'd just woken up, but the truth was you'd just panicked that Steve might panic. He hated people talking about his sex life in that way, always had, and the idea of you making that worse for him had taken over you.

But Tony texted to say sorry and you apologised right back, which he scolded you for. You knew he hadn't meant any harm.

It was past 8pm by the time you got another text:

Finally back. Sorry it's been so long. Your place or mine? :)

You winced at the gorgeous message. He was an altogether gorgeous man, so why did the idea of talking about what had happened that morning fill you with dread? Steve had obviously trained himself to help you on your period but it wasn't something that came naturally to him. You worried that he might feel more uncomfortable about the whole thing now and nothing hurt more than making him uncomfortable.

Can we take a raincheck? Hope the meeting wasn't too awful x

He replied back so quickly you wondered if he'd just been sat there waiting for you.

Are you okay? It was definitely awful, but I'm in one piece at least.

Something felt icky in your chest and you thought about bounding up to his door like last night and leaping into his arms, but instead you locked your phone and turned over on your side as another wave of pain hit.

It had only been ten minutes when there was a knock on your door.

"Y/N? I know you said rain check and I swear I'll go away as soon as you let me know you're alright? Is it the pain again?"

Your heart ached even more than your stomach. His kindness knew no bounds and you loved him so wholeheartedly it felt like you might burst.

"Shit, I'm sorry Steve, come in, please."

The door clicked and edged open slowly, just a portion of his head sticking through it as he assessed the situation. When he saw you all swaddled in blankets he came closer, but only to sit at the end of your bed. You reached for his hand, gratified when he offered it readily.

"Y/N-"

"No, I'm really sorry Steve. For not replying and for not wanting to see you and for this morning, especially, and the teasing. I know you hate that sort of thing and I'm so sorry I put you in that position and then I just felt so bad about it I didn't want to see you. But I always want to see you. Always, baby, I'm sorry."

He blinked. You pressed your lips together into a thin line as you waited for him to respond to your rant. A slightly pathetic rant, in hindsight, but at least it was all said.

"Struggling to see what you're apologising for, sweetness," he said eventually, rubbing his thumb into your hand, steadying, "You're entitled to want an evening to yourself, anytime. You know that."

"I do," you said in earnest, "But we communicate better than I did tonight. And I was an ass this morning."

"Tony was an ass," he correctly firmly, "But I wasn't that embarrassed, baby. I've come a long way since I came out the ice all innocent. You should know that better than anyone."

His fingers fluttered at your wrist, a spark in his eye, and there was heat flooding through you for an entirely different reason now.

"You're right, of course. Can we maybe blame it on my period messing me up and get straight to the bit where you kiss me stupid?"

He chuckles at you and you pout when he doesn't follow it right up with a kiss.

"One last thing, it'll be quick, I promise," he said, pleading, "Please don't let anything getting in the way of you coming to me when you feel like this. Sitting in my room knowing my girl is in pain is way too much for me to handle, baby."

Yes, you could have answered in words, but you were an impatient being. You surged forward to connect your lips to his instead, ignoring the stab of pain from the change of position as you melted into him, his large warm hand soon cupping the back of your neck to keep you close.

When Steve's other hand came up to your stomach in an attempt to quell the pain, you found yourself grinning too hard not to pull away. He grinned right back.

if you'd like to request something, please do so here. i'd love to hear from you, sunflower <3

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #captain america x reader #captain america imagine #steve rogers imagine #captain america fanfiction #steve rogers fanfiction #captain america oneshot #steve rogers oneshot #marvel #marvel x reader #marvel fanfiction #marvel imagine #marvel oneshot

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miracles-and-butterflies · 6 months

Note

How did fractured Luisa react when she find out that Pedro abused Mirabel?

*fan girl screaming* You don’t know how long I’ve waited for this question.

Very, very sickened.

Warning: sensitive topics below.

~~~~~~

And Yet He Shot the Fawn

Luisa almost forgot what she was meant to be doing. A hug is the furthest thing in her mind. She is too busy staring at Mirabel’s back, neck and upper arms through the tears in her blouse, now that she’s closer… it looks awful. She can see the inside of Mirabel’s neck in one of the cuts.

Some of them are deep, like slices. Some are barely there. Some raised on her skin. Some are bloody and leaking profusely. Some are pink and angry. Some are white and fading.

There isn’t a patch of skin that isn’t marked.

All this time Luisa and Camilo have mocked Mirabel’s perfect posture and stiff back and shoulders…

No wonder. She looks like she would shatter.

But how did she get these injuries?

They look too precise to be an accident or an animal. Mirabel wouldn’t get into a fight. And it’s not like she could have done it herself, the angle is wrong.

It has to be someone else. Nobody spends time alone with her…

“Abuelo did it.”

Mirabel’s coldness broke a little at the name. She paled and took a small step back.

“You are tired and stressed, Luisa. You should get some rest—”

“He did. Didn’t he?”

Mirabel shifted from one foot to the other. “He and my tutors.”

There’s been so many tutors over the years. Is that why they were replaced so quickly? Coming and going from nowhere to prevent gossip?

All those adults… adults who were trusted by their family.

“When?” Luisa asked.

“I-I lost count; I don’t know the dates… it started when I was six. It hasn’t stopped.”

Is that why her blouse is all bloody and ripped now? Is that why Abuelo had been in her room just now? Is that why he has a riding crop - even though he has never owned a horse?

Has he been using a weapon on her this whole time?

“Why?”

“You have to understand that he isn’t doing it to hurt me.” Mirabel insists. “I was making mistakes and getting emotional. He is doing it to help me. I failed. I was being a burden to our family, I had to be taught a lesson.”

She doesn’t actually believe this… does she?

“I should find our parents, or someone else in the family. They can help—”

“Nobody will care.”

“What?”

“I call them Señor and Señora. I can’t feel, Luisa. Everyone is scared of me. Or thinks I’m a heartless monster. Or both. I haven’t had a relationship with anyone since I was Antonio’s age.” Mirabel’s eyes and voice are wracked with distress; the rest of her is oddly calm. “I don’t know what it feels like to love and be loved anymore. Abuelo does not love me. He loves my gift - if it were to disappear tomorrow, he’d want nothing to do with me.”

A tear slips from her eye then.

Luisa hates herself.

She (and Camilo) have teased and mocked and bullied this girl senseless. Abuelo Pedro’s little favourite. Señorita sin corazón.

She remembers Mirabel before her ceremony, a very different girl, begging Luisa to protect her.

“I don’t want a gift,” she’d weeped under their beds, ten years ago. “I want to stay here with you in the nursery. It’s safe here.”

And fuck. She was right.

That whole thing with Isabela? All those years ago was true… Isabela wasn’t just being bossy and annoying when she’d hiss at them to stop. She knew it happened once. Does she know it’s still going on?

And their parents? How could they not know? Even if they didn’t believe Isabela back then, wouldn’t they have checked with Mirabel?

What about Tía Pepa? She heals people. She heals everyone. Didn’t she ever think it was strange how she’s never treated Mirabel in the past nine years?

“I heard the cracks that night.” Luisa gasps dramatically before she can stop herself. “I wasn’t sure with all the commotion at first. I told him when we went back into Antonio’s room. He said, ‘If you can’t use your gift correctly, I will bash your head into the wall until you do. Like a soft arepa.”

Luisa just put a hand over her mouth.

At least she’d just been made to look like she was drunk.

“He didn't say the arepa bit.” Mirabel said, flat. “I thought it would be funny. I thought if I could cry, I could smile too. I suppose not.”

Luisa felt bile in her throat.

#encanto #encanto fracture au #ask me anything #my writing #luisa madrigal #mirabel madrigal #pedro madrigal

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csuitebitches · 1 year

Text

On the Role of Cultural Education in Self Identity and Hypergamy

I’ve been thinking a lot about education lately. Why is it that I’ve spent a decade and half in the traditional education system and still not felt like a “human”? Why is it that when I finally began getting “real world knowledge” it all felt new and that school hasn’t prepared me for any of that? Why did I still feel unrefined as a human being?

I remember being at an HNI event years ago and being absolutely blank faced about what was going on. I didn’t know any of the topics they were talking about. That’s when it first hit me - my education system had failed me in some way. I felt stupid, like a little goldfish in the ocean.

There’s more to life than what we’re taught inside the four walls of a classroom. This year I’m going to heavily focus on my “cultural education.”

For context because I don’t want to mislead anyone: I’m Asian, my parents are HNIs (which explains specific knowledge and accessibility to certain things), I do have privilege which I accept and try to make good out of (such as volunteer work, working on impact-driven businesses).

Cultural knowledge expansion is important because it shapes you as a person. You realise that life is not black and white - there’s so much more to it. You think more about things that truly matter and you focus less on superficial things. You realise that there’s always some historical knowledge you can apply to current times.

Best of all - you’re on track to being smarter, wiser, confident and sociable. Even if you may not know all the answers, at least you know what to question!

I’m at an age where I’ve had families asking my family about my marriage prospects (arranged marriages are common in my culture, I would 90% opt for one at a later age, arranged marriages are NOT forced marriages) and I want to be able to be “too good” for anyone and everyone. In my culture, we don’t marry individuals; we marry families. The family that I would ideally want to get married into should be up to my standard as well. I want a man to earn the right to be my partner, not the other way round, no matter how much money or influence he has. This is something that my father has drilled in my head from day 1 - never settle for just anyone.

However - how can I ask for things if I don’t bring them to the table myself? How can I ask for someone cultured, highly educated, intellectual - if I am not trying to be those things?

Things To Culturally Expand On (and this is exactly what I would teach my future children)

You don’t have to be an expert of any of these. But even knowing the ABCs can take you a long way. I do feel that exploring these would help me connect to my feminine energy further as well. Only classroom knowledge will not build you as a person.

1. Watching indie movies / niche movies on MUBI.com

2. Learning the basics of crafts (embroidery, cooking, etc)

3. Exploring literature (at the moment, eastern literature)

4. Herbal medicines (this does not replace allopathy, but I do think that herbal remedies can be useful for minor things)

5. Poetry

6. Appreciating classical music (I’ve always appreciated western classical music because my mum insisted on my sibling and I learning the violin/piano (my sibling is really gifted)) especially eastern classical

7. Philosophy, eastern and western

8. Understanding and appreciating traditional dances

9. Working more on my native language

10. Being refined in my culture’s history and geography

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pureasthedrivensn0w · 28 days

Text

Forever is the Sweetest Con // Part 1

omgomgomg this is my first time ever posting to tumblr.com and i am nervoussss. i’ve been a lurker for years (literally like since i was 12) and i’ve always wanted to share my writing but i’ve been too scared!!! but i decided to say fuck it and post some of my stuff. i’m obsessed w the hunger games, so that’s what this first post is based on! it’s totally self indulgent, but it’s probably going to turn into a series, so suggestions and feedback is super welcome and appreciated! i prob wont get any readers but that’s ok i just want to get my work out there and continue this hobby! anyway if you’re reading this i love you!!!

TW: Death, slight descriptions of gore, sadness

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

The capitol says the dark days are behind us now. We have entered a new era, an era of peace. Any trace of an uprising was squandered. Any small act of defiance, intentional or not, is met with cruel and unusual punishment. We are lucky the capitol hasn’t done more to punish us, given the harm we did. The world could have ended. We should be grateful.

Anyone who steps foot in any of the districts will see that that is not true. Mention peace to a citizen of district eleven and he will laugh in your face. Talk about gratitude to a district eight worker and she will avoid you at all costs. In the districts, there is no such thing as gratitude, peace, tranquility, happiness. There is only survival.

When you think of survival to it’s core, the barren bones, the tired eyes, the heavy limbs, you are picturing the citizens of district twelve. The twelfth district in Panem specialized in coal mining, which is not only an incredibly dangerous industry, but incredibly taxing as well. The men go to the mines from 6 in the morning to 7 at night. Monday through friday. No breaks, no exceptions, the only time you are excused is if you are actively dying.

Roslyn Sage grew up in this environment. But she also grew up in a different world. The world of the covey. She looks back at her early days with fondness, remembering the times she would hold hands with her older sister and cousin and harmonize to the songs their elders taught them. Or braiding grass baskets with her mother. Or sitting on her fathers shoulders while they traveled from district to district.

“Papa, I’m hungry.” She remembers saying, playing with his long hair as he walked with the rest of the band. They didn’t know where they were going, they never did, and they liked it that way. “I know, sweet thing.” he said softly, keeping his eyes trained on the stretch of land in front of them. The covey never looks back, that’s what her papa said.

They were nearing four days of travel. They had just left district 8, spending two months there. They had a few injured, with the war going on all around them. They needed time to reciprocate, recharge. But they were always safest in the trees. That’s what papa said. So they left. Her uncle still needed a walking stick, and her grandfather couldn’t hear out of his left ear, but they needed to leave.

Roslyn Sage didn’t understand the complete reasoning. Her papa said it wasn’t safe, and that was all. They needed to get somewhere where they could sing. And sing they did. As they walked, she could hear her older sister sing one of the band’s favorite songs to pass the time. “Well there’s a dark and a troubled side of life,” Lucy Gray sang, as she held hands with four year old Maude Ivory, “There’s a bright and a sunny side too.”

Roslyn Sage grinned as her papa started to sing along, and then mama. Her uncle joined, then nana. “Keep on the sunny side, always on the sunny side. Keep on the sunny side of life! It will help us every day, it will brighten all the way if we keep on the sunny-“

Papa stopped so suddenly that Roslyn Sage swore she could’ve fallen off his shoulders. He reached forward and grabbed Lucy Gray’s arm, a silent way to get her to stop singing. “Papa, why’d we-“ “Quiet.” Papa whispered back harshly, as all the grownups looked ahead. When Roslyn Sage finally looked up to see what they were staring at, she felt her heart sink into her stomach. Even at seven years old, she knew this wasn’t good.

Peacekeepers. Sure- just a group of five, not a whole team, but enough. Big, strong, grown men who could take them easily. Everyone in the group knew this. Papa’s hand tightened around Lucy Gray’s arm and mama quickly scooped up Maude Ivory. “Wasn’t expecting to see anyone out here.” One peacekeeper said, a small frown on his face. He couldn’t have been older than 18. In fact- they all looked that young. One stepped forward, deciding to take the lead in the situation. “You’re past boundaries.” He said, his hand resting on the gun in his holster. “That’s against the law now.”

“We don’t want any trouble.” Papa said, his back straight even though Roslyn Sage could feel his heart pounding from here. “We’re traveling folk- we must’ve been away when that law was passed.” But they weren’t, she knew they weren’t. She had been half-asleep one day, cuddled in between Maude Ivory and Lucy Gray, when she heard the grown ups whispering about it. But she knew better than to say that. “Lead us to the nearest district and then-“

A twig snapped and the entire group looked up to see uncle Sam Flint running as fast as he could. He was only 14, he was foolish. Papa almost ran for it, screaming his youngest brothers name, but it was too late. The youngest peacekeeper had already gotten his gun, aimed, and shot. Sam Flint hit the floor in an instant. Even from here, Roslyn Sage could see the blood pouring out of his head.

“Now don’t take that-“ Papa was right back in defense mode, pulling Lucy Gray behind him. They already lost one, they couldn’t lose another. The peacekeeper who had shot Sam Flint looked shaken up but the tragedy only made the one in charge more upset. He held up his gun, and when he did, so did the rest. All five peacekeepers had their fully loaded rifles aimed at the group. “One step and you’re-“ her aunt let out a broken sob, holding her baby to her chest.

It all happened so fast. If you were to ask the covey children about what really happened that day, you wouldn’t get anywhere near a real answer. All Roslyn Sage could really remember was her aunts face as the bullet hit her chest, how her papa tried to catch the baby, mama’s scream as she reached for Lucy Gray before being dragged away, papa’s eyes as he laid in her lap, holding her hand until his last breath.

Lucy Gray tells her that the peacekeepers weren’t willing to kill the children. In a twisted way, they thought they were victims of the covey and not the captiol. After papa was gone, the one who killed Sam Flint picked her up. She was kicking and screaming, too young to comprehend that her father was gone regardless of if she was next to him or not. The punched his back, kicked his stomach, even tried to bite. The boy carrying her had tears streaming down his cheeks. Roslyn had never had any desire to hurt someone in her life, until now.

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nanpierce · 1 year

Text

I’ve seen some hot takes about the romangerri argument positing that Gerri wanted to tell Roman he isn’t like his father, he’s better. I admit my mind went there as well...but it just isn’t the case, and that’s extremely significant for both of them.

In terms of business, she doesn’t see him as Logan’s equal, nor should she. He was on track to achieve that eventually - she believed in them as a dream team, and wouldn’t have partnered with him if she didn’t - but he hasn’t proven himself. He’s not heeding her warnings, he’s joining in Kendall’s grief spiral, he’s not making good or rational decisions. Of course Logan was never known for making rational decisions...but he did listen to Gerri, and he was liable to do whatever the person in front of him told him to, and Gerri was oftentimes in front of him. Logan brought the right people in, and had the magnetism to do it, which she also sees in Roman - we know she does, because she had him seduce Eduard, and we can assume she approved of him courting Lukas and Mencken in s3. It’s one of his assets, and he’s squandering it.

Gerri has never bullshitted him, and this is something he likes about her. It’s one of the things that taught him he could rely on her. She’s once again refusing to bullshit him and telling it to him straight; he needs to do better if he wants to achieve what his father did, but in his grief, he can’t recognize that for the wake-up call that it should be.

Naturally this is to say nothing for Roman as a person - she certainly knows Roman is a better person than Logan was, and that’s one reason he doesn’t measure up to him in business - but with the GoJo deal closing in and the PGM deal in the balance, there isn’t time for them to address those things. Of course in it’s Shakespearean irony, Roman casting Gerri aside the minute he doesn’t like what she has to say is the most Loganesque thing he’s done in quite awhile, calling back to the way Logan discarded Rhea and tried to turn Marcia’s disappointment in him around on her at the end of s2.

I think their argument here has told us more about them, and given us significant insights into both of their characters in a way that wouldn’t be possible if she had truly thought he was better than Logan.

#succession #succession spoilers #roman roy #gerri kellman #romangerri

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ellekhen · 1 month

Text

Hand, Hearth, and Home

Chapter 39 - To Be Born Anew

Chapter Summary: A harrowing situation leads to another complicated revelation for Church. The scouting party makes their way back to camp… and Church finds someone waiting for him.

Pairing(s): Astarion x Male Tav (Main); Past OC x Male Tav Rating: Explicit Length: 177K+ words; Chapters 39/54

Excerpt below:

“What did you all get up to while we were gone?” Church asks conversationally, working out some blood matted in his hair with a grimace.

“Oh, you know,” Astarion drawls, reaching over to help him with a disapproving hum. “Wyll got eaten by a dragon, Karlach went to finishing school, Shadowheart converted to a Selûnite, and I got betrothed to an Amnian merchant prince.”

“Knew I’d be missing all the fun,” Church grins at him, wading over to rinse underneath the waterfall. “…think that prince could use a concubine?”

Astarion throws his head back in a laugh, and when he looks at Church again it’s with an odd expression — something fond, soft…

…and curious.

“Hang on,” Astarion frowns as the tiefling returns. “You’ve got a little something on your…”

He reaches over to brush his thumb against the stinging skin of the tiefling’s forehead, and Church flinches away abruptly, self-consciously shielding his face.

“What’s wrong?” Astarion asks, taken aback.

Well, it wasn’t like he was going to be able to hide it, Church reminds himself. He lowers his hands sheepishly.

“Sorry, it’s just… I’m still getting used to it,” he laughs nervously. “Come take a closer look?”

He beckons Astarion towards him, his heart fluttering as the elf leans quite close to his face, scrutinizing him as those cool hands gently tilt his head to catch the burgeoning sunlight.

“Scales?” Astarion utters in surprise. “Those are new.”

“Yes, they are. So things got… dicey on the road,” Church wheedles.

This moment is so nice — the last thing he wants to do is trouble Astarion with the dramatic details. He doesn’t know how much he should share anyway with the rest of the crew. After all, there are things he hasn’t even disclosed to the companions that witnessed most of it to begin with.

And so, he lies.

“I had to call upon my mo — my patron. And, through a series of, er, events, I guess my body decided to go through second puberty and let the latent draconic bloodline awaken? That’s how she described it, anyway.”

Astarion looks at him, intrigued. “Draconic? Really?”

“I mean, you don’t see the family resemblance?” Church says dryly, gesturing at his horns. “But yes, here I am, a distant descendant of both a devil and a dragon.”

“Sounds like your ancestors had one hell of a night,” the elf smirks.

“Most likely,” Church grins at that. “Anyway, I was born with magic. My patron just taught me how to use it — hone it into something to help me survive pitchforks and diabolists. So it seems I’m somewhat of a latent sorcerer.”

He demonstrates with a little cantrip of dancing lights around his fingers.

“I feel more in tune with my magic than ever before,” he continues to reassure his companion with a half-lie. “I never realized that my head had been so… foggy before now.”

That part, at least, is true.

“The scales were an unfortunate side effect. They itch like hell, and…” he stammers, still feeling the elf’s hypnotic gaze penetrating into him. “They’re a little odd. I’m not sure how I feel—”

Astarion cradles Church’s jaw, pressing a lingering kiss to his sensitive temple.

“You’re beautiful,” the elf murmurs, pulling away.

Church feels his face heat as he looks slowly, fully up at the elf.

That felt different from Astarion’s typical indulgent flattery. This close, his eyes seem earnest. His breath catches a little — as if in quiet awe. They both wade close, naked, and vulnerable together in the spring — no airs of anything left between them.

No, you’re the beautiful one, Church thinks dully. Maybe he can blame the parasites for apparently turning his brain to sludge…

“You’re different, somehow,” he mutters instead after a moment. “What changed?”

He watches in amazement as Astarion slowly places his hand fully over the tiefling’s racing heart, long-lashed eyes closing for just a moment.

“I missed you,” Astarion confesses, voice breaking.

Read from the beginning!

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mage-ical-character-person · 6 months

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Which sesame street characters do you like !!

Many!

As I’m revisiting it I’m going mostly as in-order as I can and I haven’t even gotten to where Elmo is introduced yet!

but!! I love them all so much I will say things about some favorites now

Bert and Ernie are. Everything. Okay. They’re just so. Their skits are always so funny and I love them. And they love each other in one way or another. Honestly I don’t think Bert and Ernie know if Bert and Ernie are a couple any more than the general public does. Like I think they’ve been a part of each others lives for a long time and mean a lot to each other obviously and like there is. Something. With them. I don’t know what, though. I like the idea that they never had the stupid like.. “what are we” discussion thing. You know?

Bert is relatable I also love pigeons. I don’t like how him liking pigeons is sometimes treated like a weird thing honestly I think it’s weirder to not like pigeons. Like also it’s legitimately impressive that he taught his pigeon Bernice to play checkers.

youtube

Also there is. This.

youtube

I don’t know what to say about this I just think everyone should see it.

and Then!! There is The Count. Count Von Count. The inherent intrigue of the vampirism they refuse to elaborate on. The fact that he is simply just so silly and dramatic and obsessive I love that for him. The bit where he cries over not having anything to count and then gets all excited and counts his tears and then runs out of tears to count and cries about it and then gets so excited and

youtube

I keep coming back to the whole like. What’s up with the Vampirism. He’s immortal like he’s 6 million years old literally older than humanity. There are so many things that just make you go “What’s up with that?” Like… just took away Grover’s free will once which is crazy. Not clear if he still has mind control powers and just has learned that doing that is screwed up or if he’s like. Getting weaker cause he’s so busy counting he forgets to feed himself blood or something. (Because like counting used to distract vampires was a folklore thing.)

Genuinely kind of worried about him but he seems to be having a good time so if he is losing his vampire powers or something like that he hasn’t noticed/minded. The whole “numbers vampire” thing is confusing. Like does he feed on numbers? Or is he forgetting to vampire because of numbers? I think he should be allowed to practice vampire self care and take a little sip of blood. Just a little.

I hope he can turn into a bat it would be adorable. Doing this to him

Also! Oscar the Grouch. Obviously wonderful hilarious iconic never seen before

He’s wonderful and we all have days where we are like that. It’s also awesome that like by Grouch standards he’s a total softie and extrovert. It’s fun. Just like when he’s interacting with literally any other character. Also this

I don’t have a Twitter I can’t navigate Twitter why are the posts just not in chronological order can’t live under these conditions but the Sesame Street twitters sometimes make me wish…

anyway. I have literally. Been taking notes. On Sesame Street.

because I know otherwise it’ll all run together in my head.

#*chatter chatter*#long post #sesame street #bert and ernie #ernie sesame street #bert sesame street #count von count #oscar the grouch

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bat-stuff · 2 years

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Collin Wilkes headcanons: “He uses flirting as a defense mechanism. Not only that but he flirts with his friends just to make them uncomfortable and the closer he gets with the person the kinkier the comments”, can we get a post of the friend group reacting to Collin’s flirting in tier-wise-listing “least close with-to closest with” and how easy the friend he’s the least close with has it vs. the friends he’s closest too and how badly they have it dealing with his flirting. Not making assumptions but I am assuming he’s closest with Damian so it’ll be fun to see how you write him reacting to it please????

Of course!

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

Ok, so we've already covered that Colin enjoys teasing and flirting with his friends constantly but we haven't talked about how far he actually goes

Essentially, the more comfortable he is with said person the farther he feels he can push them.

So let's start with the person he flirts with the least: Jon Kent

The resident golden boy of the group, he could do no wrong

Now I'm not saying Jon and Colin aren't besties, because they totally are, but I see Jon and Colin having absolutely opposite viewpoints on life which makes it harder for them to relate to each other.

Like, Jon grew up in a country home with a happy family and was taught the best manners and to never judge a book by its cover.

Colin on the other hand never had much of a family or a home. He really just raised himself and took every questionable encounter with a person as a sign of danger.

Anyway, Colin teases Jon very subtly.

Mostly because he doesn't want to offend Jon and literally anything sexual just goes over his head

Colin: Hey Jonny boy, looking fine as always in that flannel.

Jon, utterly confused: oh thanks, you too!

Colin, now also confused: You’re welcome?

Jon just doesn't get it and Colin feels genuinely bad about it

Colin has tried so many times to joke around with Jon

Jon Kent is just too pure for this world

Really he doesn’t tease Jon that much but that doesn’t mean he isn’t thankful to have him in his life

On the outside he jokes that Jon just doesn’t quite understand (which he really doesn’t) but inside he desperately doesn’t want to make Jon uncomfortable

Colin hasn’t had many positive friends like Jon in his life and he doesn’t want to lose that so he goes easy on Jon

Colin does frequently call Jon “Princess” and other random pet names

“Baby girl” is his favorite

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

Next up is Billy

Colin and Billy have an interesting relationship given they aren’t that close because they don’t see each other very much

Colin just feels really comfortable around Billy

They sort-of get along, because Colin just destroys Billy

He flirts with Billy relentlessly, holding back absolutely nothing

And Billy hates it

And I mean he despises it

Billy doesn’t ever tell Colin to stop though because it wouldn’t mean anything in the end

Colin would find another method of verbally kinky jokes to torture Billy

Billy also knows that its just Colin showing his love

Either way, Colin uses any possible thing he can think of

He almost baits Billy into responding to a normal comment and then goes in for the kill

He just throws whatever pops into his head first and hopes it will be enough to get a reaction out of Billy

And every time Billy has to retaliate with some offended comment

Colin: I like your shirt

Billy: Oh thanks I got it at Walmart-

Colin: You should take it off *winks*

Billy: You have got to be kidding me

Colin: You’re right, I should take you back to my apartment first

Billy: No you should get help, Colin

If Colin catches Billy on a good day, he’ll flirt back

And Colin can’t respond because he’ll just blush

If anyone flirts with Colin, and it doesn’t matter who they are, their sexuality or their gender, he will just combust

Billy has only recently discovered this and now uses it to his advantage to shut Colin up

In the end they are good friends, even when Colin insists on making Billy’s life hell

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

Last but certainly not least is Damian

Colin and Damian have the strongest relationship

Colin was Damian’s first friend, the first person he truly trusted

Which was probably a mistake on his part because Colin doesn’t even think about being subtle with Damian

Damian is grateful to have Colin in his life, but the pain that comes from speaking with this ripped orphan teenager ruins his reputation as a cool, mysterious, rich boy

It is impossible to escape Colin Wilkes when you live in the same city and go to the same school as him

Damian can’t have a single conversation with any other student without Colin materializing out of literally no where to wrap an arm around him and join in on the debate

There have been times where Colin has kissed Damian on the cheek and called Damian “His Man”

The controversy this causes with the press is absolutely hilarious

Gotham Gazette headlines read “Damian Wayne and Possible Secret Boyfriend...” and at every charity event Damian has to explain that he in fact is not dating this ginger boy, Colin is just his overly confident friend who likes to annoy him

Colin finds these ordeals hilarious and doesn’t stop

And Damian has tried so hard to get him to chill but Colin just goes even harder the next time

Colin’s flirting with Damian can be downright dirty

And most of the time, Damian has no reaction

Most of the time

There are those very few times where Colin is like:

Colin: I would let you rail me, Damian

Damian: Whatever gets you to shut up

And Colin’s entire thought process is out of commission for the rest of the day

As I’ve mentioned, Colin doesn’t take flirting that’s directed towards him well, he just shuts down

And really if Damian Wayne were to say that to anyone, no matter who they are they would have the exact same reaction.

I mean, it’s Damian Wayne

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raewritez · 1 year

Text

for the want of the sun | chapter sixteen: another climb

a/n: hey guys…long time no see…

Zuko and I are by Iroh’s side the moment we hear him wake. It’s morning, and songbirds have found their perch in the forest outside. The sun streams through the rotting panels of wood, painting Iroh’s weary face in soft light.

“Uncle,” Zuko urges. Iroh breathes in, prying open his eyes. Zuko releases a sigh of relief, and so do I. “You were unconscious,” he says. “It was a surprise attack. Azula did this to you.”

Iroh pushes himself up. “Somehow, that’s not surprising.”

I stare at him in worry. “How are you feeling? I mean, obviously not great. I tried making the salve you taught me but I don’t know if I did it right-”

“I’m fine, my dear. Thank you.”

Zuko stands up and rushes to the kettle that we put on the fire. Neither of us really know how to make tea, we just used some of Iroh’s herbs that he had stashed away. I’d seen him do it enough times, but he makes it look easy.

He carries a cup of steaming tea over to us. “Here, Uncle. I hope we made it the way you like it.”

Iroh takes it from his hands gratefully and takes a sip. I see his eyes widen, his jaw clench.

Zuko looks at him hopefully. “How is it?”

“Good!” Iroh exclaims, a little forcefully. “Very, uh, bracing!”

Zuko gives me a satisfied smile. I give him a thumbs up, but when he turns away, I give Iroh an apologetic grin. He shakes his head with a smile.

Then, Zuko says: “Uncle, I’ve been thinking,” and I know that whatever he’s about to say is cause for concern.

“It’s only a matter of time until I run into Azula again,” he continues. “I’m going to need to know more advanced skills to face her.” He pauses. He sends the both of us a look. “I know what you two are going to say; she’s my sister and I should try to get along with her.”

I shake my head. “Um, no? She’s insane. And I’m not a firebender, so…”

Iroh nods. “Yes. She’s crazy and she needs to go down.” He pushes himself to stand, groaning as he does so. I reach out to help him but he waves me away. “It’s time to resume your training.”

Zuko nods solemnly. “Thank you, Uncle. I’m ready for this.”

—

He and Iroh hike up to the mountain peak in the evening, and hours pass before I hear the thunder.

I’d busied myself with cooking, mixing together vegetables that I’d found in the overgrown garden outside the cabin. There’s carrots, tomatoes…not quite enough for a meal, but we’re working with what we can get. I spend most of the day alone. My mind wanders, and my chest hurts when I think about things for too long, but the sun is out and the grass is lit golden in the evening and I convince myself that it’s enough. When the rain comes in, I watch it through the window, and listen to the quiet melody of the droplets on the roof.

When Iroh breaks through the door, obviously troubled, I stand, heart already racing. “What did he do?”

Iroh shakes his head, clearly distressed. “He wants to bend lightning. I told him he is not ready, but he won’t listen.”

“He’s out there?” The sky is dark, and the wind has picked up drastically. As usual, the mention of Zuko stirs anxiety in my body.

Iroh nods. “I’m still weak. I can’t…”

I nod. “It’s okay. I’m going.” I have no coat or protection from the rain, so I make my way to the door.

“Be careful, please,” Iroh says.

The grass is slippery under my feet, and the wind whips at my face, and I scan my surroundings for Zuko. I hope I won’t find him fried somewhere.

It hasn’t been ten minutes when I see him, figure moving slowly down the mountain with shoulders hunched. “Zuko!” I yell, walking as fast as I can without slipping. I call a few more times before he notices me.

I’m shaking my head when I approach him. “What were you thinking?” I yell. “Bending lightning? You know how dangerous that is! You’ve been out here for hours…” I pause my lecture when I realize that the drops falling down his face are not just rain, and that his good eye is tinged in red, and that his face is raw with emotion that makes him look like a young boy.

I fall silent, staring. The rain is loud around us. He won’t meet my eyes, his gaze cast down to the ground, and his shoulders begin to shake.

“Zuko,” I whisper. I take a step forward. I’m surprised when he falls into me, arms reaching, pulling me to him. “I-”

“Please,” he chokes out, and his breaths are short and fast. “I can’t-” He’s shaking, and I grab his wrists that are placed on my shoulders.

“Zuko, breathe. It’s okay. You’re okay.” I’m trying, but he’s not with me. Not really. If he were more conscious, I’m sure he’d recoil at the touch we’re sharing, at his vulnerability. He’d be pulling away, but right now he’s not, so I’m trying. I place my hand on his chest. “Zuko. Look at me.”

He does. His eyes meet mine, glossed with tears and rainwater, a dull brown. I recognize then what the look is on his face: defeat. He shakes his head. “Why does this always happen? Why is it always so hard?”

I don’t know what to say. I don’t have an answer for him.

I pull him close to me. His arms wind around my waist, clutching, and I’ll let him have this moment of respite. He’s quiet, and I almost don't catch his whispered “I’m sorry,” but I do. I just hold him. I hold him until the rain stops.

—

We leave the next morning. Iroh’s well enough to get back on the road, the road to wherever we’re going. Our ostrich horses managed to follow us, so we saddle them up, Zuko with his Uncle, and me alone. Zuko avoids my eyes the whole morning.

It’s later, when the afternoon sun is high and sweltering, and Zuko’s nonstop navigation has Iroh and I catching eyes that the day turns for the worse.

Iroh groans loudly, looking to see if Zuko noticed. When he receives no response, he does it again, until Zuko pulls back on the reins, closing his eyes in frustration that has me smirking. “Maybe we should take a break,” he says.

“No, please, don’t stop for me,” Iroh says, clutching his chest in faux pain.

Zuko glares back at him. “Get off.”

Iroh slides off the saddle, triumphant. I hop to the ground, my knees almost buckling as I hit the earth, and my body screaming in the pain that comes from sitting still for hours on end. But almost as soon as I’m standing straight, I leap back, an arrow narrowly missing my foot.

“Woah!” I exclaim, tripping.

“What was that?” Zuko calls, but the answer comes in the rumbling coming up the trail. A group of men dressed in red costumes surrounds us, an array of weapons raised. I step back quickly, coming to Zuko’s side, and he raises his hands in defense.

“Colonel Mongke!” Iroh exclaims. “What a pleasant surprise!”

A tall man with intricate facial hair lifts his head in disdain. “If you’re surprised we’re here, then the Dragon of the West has lost a few steps.”

Zuko glances at his uncle. “You know these guys?”

“Sure,” Iroh grins. Colonel Mongke and the Rough Rhinos are legendary. Each one is a different kind of weapon specialist. They are also a very capable singing group.”

I snicker. “Singing? Like acapella?”

The man glares down at me. “We’re not here to give a concert. We’re here to apprehend some fugitives!”

Iroh sighs. “Would you like some tea first? Jasmine, maybe? I’d love some.”

“Enough stalling,” the man scoffs. “Round them up!”

One of the other men begins swinging a ball and chain around, aiming at Iroh. Zuko shoots flames towards the group, while I leap over and quickly push at his pressure points. The chain falls to the ground with a clatter. When I look back, the men are slumped on the ground, and Iroh is pulling my arm to drag me to the ostrich horses. I grab the horn of the saddle, putting my foot in the stirrup before pushing myself to sit on top.

“Go, go!” I yell, kicking at the horse’s sides.

The three of us gallop down the trail, leaving the men in the dust. My chest is heaving as I try to catch my breath. I catch Zuko’s eyes, the shock prominent in both our faces.

Iroh breathes in. “It’s always nice to see old friends.”

I can’t help the look I give him. It’s been a long day.

“Too bad you don’t have any friends that don’t want to kill you,” Zuko snarks, steering the reins.

Iroh assumes a pensive look. “Hmm. Old friends that don’t want to kill me…”

—-

taglist: @aquaamethyst96 @kaygilles

#atla #avatar the last airbender #prince zuko #zuko x y/n #zuko x reader #zuko x you #zuko fanfic #avatar fanfic #avatar x reader #zuko #iroh #for the want of the sun #fire lord zuko #aang x reader #kataang #aang #ba sing we #earth kingdom #azula

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cartoonyappreciation · 3 months

Text

As an asexual a(gray?)romantic, it’s hard for me to explain to my allosexual friends what life for me is like. I would think it should be easy, “You know how you feel about people you don’t feel attracted to? Take that and apply it to everyone.”

“So you don’t love anyone?”

“Of course not, do you need to be attracted to your best friends or family to love them?”

It’s hard to say, “oh that person is attractive/hot/beautiful,” and not feel the need to defend my sexuality. I define those things in the same way that a child defines a color as blue, a flower as pretty. Growing up surrounded by social media, we are constantly told what is sexy, who is hot, who is attractive. Feeling nothing to indicate otherwise, of course I might adopt those ideals as my own.

It is difficult, still, to explain to them the difference between recognizing a person as attractive, despite not experiencing it myself, how some aces are able to enjoy sex, although some do not. How does one explain the lack of something they have never experienced?

In high school, maybe middle school, we are (or at least I was) taught that men will tell you anything to get in your pants. That it is men who feel this way, and while it could prove tempting for women, it is us who bear the consequences of those irresponsibilities. With that fear mongering, and those words, how was I to suspect anything might be “other”?

A boy asks me out and I say yes because it is exciting to be wanted, to be loved. I break up with him a couple months later because I still feel no different about him to how I felt before. He is still my best friend and I feel guilty for leading him on, a lie of omission. While my other friends are dating, none of them that I know are interested in sex. I’ve heard of other girls in school partaking, but those rumors are bounced around with insults. I feel bad for them, but do not really know them.

In college I live with three other girls I have barely met. It is here where I first begin to suspect that I may not feel everything these girls do. I try dating when it comes up, but still feel no desire to take things up a level. I become well-aware of my roommates sex-lives (living in that close proximity to one another and being away from friends/families for the first time makes you talk). I talk to other girls, I look things up online, I reflect.

Sometimes it’s easy to see how I feel differently than others around me. When people around me fawn over celebrities, or get nervous around people they find attractive, I realize that it isn’t really a bit. Not for these people. It’s fun to go along with sometimes, to be dramatic, but for my friends, after talking to them, I know it’s not a joke for them. They may have a flair for the dramatic, but apparently they also feel something alongside the happiness of entertaining one another, aside from just the general anxiety of being close to other human beings you are unfamiliar with. In elementary school, I had one go to celebrity and one school-mate who were my go-to crushes. Declarations of having no crushes were met with total and utter disbelief and speculation.

How does one show or explain the lack of certain thoughts? Here, let me draw you a comic, write you a book, of just how much I am not thinking of boys, or girls, enbys (bc yall are stylish as hell) or having a relationship, having sex. Oh wait, that’s just a story about a normal person doing literally anything else.

When I tell new friends about my identity, sometimes I get the good old, “Wow, I’m so jealous. You must be able to be so focused and get so much done!” I question how much of that is a joke versus how much allos actually pine or get distracted by their sexualities. (Granted, I have had to stop my brother from getting us into an accident when he was distracted by a particularly caked up booty, but he hasn’t gotten into an accident before, so surely that must be an outlier?)

That is all to say, as many have said before, it is difficult to explain, or even recognize, the lack of a certain feeling. I think it’s kind of funny, if a bit annoying. But online communities have really helped me accept myself for who I am, even if I’m still figuring it out one step at a time.

#asexuality #asexual #musings

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