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kaladinkholins · 3 months

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i know I've mentioned my interpretation of mizu's gender a million times on here but i don't think i ever fully elaborated on it.

so on that note i just wanna ramble about that for a bit. basically, it's my reading of the show that mizu is nonbinary, so let me dig into that.

putting the rest under the cut because it ended being pretty long lol. also here have a cute mizu pic of her being happy and most at ease with herself, symbolised by her letting her hair down. <3 ok let's proceed.

okay note that nonbinary is an umbrella term, and applies to a vast range of gender identities, but it's my personal preference to use it as is, simply because i'm not a fan of microlabels. more power to you if you are though, but anyway.

essentially when i refer to mizu as nonbinary it means that i interpret mizu as a woman, but not ONLY a woman. not strictly a woman. she is also a man. she is also neither of these things, she is something in between, while at the same time she is none of these at all. i've said as much many times, but i just don't want people to think that by nonbinary it inherently means a "third androgynous gender" that essentially turns the gender binary into a gender trinary. not only is that going against what the term nonbinary was crafted for (to go against rigid boxes and categorisation of gender identities), but also, not all nonbinary people fall under that category or definition, and that's definitely not the way i interpret mizu.

also, before anyone fights me on this, let me clarify further that gender means something different to everyone. it's not your biological sex or physical characteristics. but at the same time, gender is not mere presentation. you can be a trans woman and still present masculine—either because you're closeted and forced to, or because you just want to—and either way, that doesn't take away from your identity as a woman. same goes for trans men. if you're a trans man but you wear skirts and don't bind or don't get top surgery, that doesn't make you any less of a man. because gender non-conformity exists, and does not only apply to cis people! some lesbians are nonbinary and prefer using he/him pronouns while dressing masculinely, but that doesn't mean they're a man, or that they're any less of a lesbian. neither does this mean that they're a cis woman.

the thing about queer identities in general is that, like i said, they mean something different to everyone, because how you identify—regardless of your biological attributes and fashion or pronouns—is an extremely personal experience. so a nonbinary person and a gnc cis woman's experiences might have plenty of overlap, but what distinguishes between the two is up to the individual. there's no set requirements to distinguish you as one or the other, but it's up to you to decide what you identify as, based on what you feel. either way, by simply identifying yourself as anything under the LGBTQ+ umbrella, you are already communicating to the world that you are not what a conservative, cisheteronormative society wants you to be.

which is why i find all this queer infighting on labels to be so ridiculous. because we're all fighting the same fight; the common enemy is a societal structure that divides us into set roles and expectations purely based on our biological parts. that's why biological essentialism in the queer community is a fucking disease. because by arguing that women are inherently weak and fragile and soft and gentle and must be protected from evil ugly men, while men are inherently strong and angry and violent and exploitative of women, these people are advocating for the same fucked up system that marginalises and abuses women as well as effeminate and/or gay men.

anyway. i'm going on a tangent. this was meant to be a blue eye samurai post. so yeah back to that— the point i'm trying to make is that there's no one way to identify as anything, and everyone views gender in a specific way.

so with that being said, yes you can definitely interpret mizu as a gnc cis woman and that's a totally valid reading. however, interpreting her as nonbinary or transmasc also doesn't take away from her experiences with misogyny and female oppression, because nonbinary and transmasc folks also experience these things.

me, personally, i view her as nonbinary but not necessarily or always transmasc because i still believe femininity and womanhood is an inherent part of who mizu is. for example, from what we've seen, she does not like binding. it does not give her gender euphoria, but is instead very uncomfortable for her both physically and mentally, and represents her suppressing her true self. which is why when she "invites the whole" of herself, she stands completely bare in front of the fire, breasts unbound and hair untied. when she is on the ship heading to a new land in the ending scene, she is no longer hiding her neck and the lack of an adam's apple. we can thus infer that mizu does not have body dysmorphia. she is, in fact, comfortable in her body, and relies on it extremely, because her body is a weapon. instead, what mizu hates about herself is her face—her blue eyes. she hates herself for her hybridised identity, hates herself for being a racial Other. hates that she has no home in her homeland. these are not queer or feminist themes, but postcolonial ones.*

* and as a tiny aside on this subject, i really do wish more of the fandom discussion would talk about this more. it's just such an essential part to reading her character. like someone who's read homi k bhabha's location of culture and has watched this show, PLEASE talk to me so we can ramble all about how the show is all about home and alienation from community. please. okay anyway—

nevertheless, queer and feminist themes (which are not mutually exclusive by the way!) are still prevalent in her story, though they are not the main issue that she is struggling with. but she does struggle with it to some extent, and we see this especially during her marriage with mikio, where we see her struggle in women's domestic spaces.

on the other hand, though, she finds no trouble or discomfort in being a man or being around other men—even naked ones—and does not seem stifled by living as one, does not seem all that bothered or uncomfortable navigating through men's spaces. contrast this to something like disney's mulan (1998), where we do see mulan struggle in navigating through men's spaces, as she feels uncomfortable being around so many men, always feeling like she doesn't belong and that she's inherently different from them. mizu has no such experiences like this, as her very personality and approach to life is what can be categorised as typically "masculine". she is straightforward and blunt. her first meeting with mikio, she tells him straight to his face that he's old while frowning and raising a brow at him. she approaches problems with her muscles and fists (or swords), rather than with her words or mind. compare this with mulan, who, while well-trained by the end of the movie, still uses her sharp wits rather than brute strength. this is a typically "feminine" approach. it's also the approach akemi relies on throughout the show—through her intelligence and persuasive tongue, she navigates the brothel with ease. mizu, in contrast to someone like mulan and akemi, struggles with womanhood and femininity, and feels detached from it.

thus, in my opinion, mizu is not simply a man, nor is she simply a woman. she is both. man and woman. masculine and feminine. she has to accept both, rather than suppress one or the other. her name means water. fluid.

as a side note, while i do believe mizu is nonbinary, i also primarily use she/her pronouns but this is a personal preference. i find it's easier, plus it's what the creators use, and because, in general, being nonbinary simply doesn't necessitate the use of they/them pronouns. nonbinary is not just a third gender. it's about breaking the binary, in any which way, and that's exactly what mizu does.

also, i'd also like to mention that one of show's head of story even referred to her with the term "nonbinary", rather than simply "androgynous" (see pic below). and it's possible this could be a slip up on his part, in which he believes the terms are interchangeable (they're not btw), but regardless i find it a very interesting word choice, and one that supports my stance.

so anyway yeah that's my incredibly long rambling post.

TL;DR nonbinary mizu rights 👍🏻👍🏻👍🏻 congrats if you reached the end of this btw. also ily. unless you're a TERF in which case fuck off. ok i'm done.

#mizu blue eye samurai #mizu bes #blue eye samurai #blue eye samurai meta #sorry if this is redundant btw i just cant stop thinking thoughts :3 #btw i am a mixed* southeast asian who is also nonbinary. just in case that's important context #by mixed* i mean i'm asian+asian but diff ethnicities lol. i dont have a white bone in my body god bless<3 #my whiteness is purely learned thru cultural osmosis + bcs my parents taught me english as a first language (boooo 🍅🍅🍅)#also i live in the global south so i think EYE know a thing or two about being gnc in a society of rigid awful gender roles‼️#so likeee i think its ridiculous that its an either-or thing #mizu can be nonbinary while still being a woman of colour ¯\_(ツ)_/¯#also ummm as much as i love queer themes and gay people i wish people would talk more about the racial otherness / community aspect #as mentioned in the post above #you don't need to read bhabha's whole book btw but just take a look at some of his ideas and you'll get what im talking about #like the fact that the fandom mostly ignores those themes in the story makes me feel like :( :/#cuz to me THATS the thing that spoke to me most and its a shame that its just not talked about enough #i mean i know why thats likely the case. but still.#whoops im rambling again 🤪#fandom.rtf #shut up haydar #meta dissertations.pdf

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hairstevington · 1 year

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i wanna cut to the feeling (ch 2)

Eddie Munson x Steve Harrington

Summary: Robin drags her best friend to a Corroded Coffin show. How were they to know sparks would fly between Steve and a member of the band? (aka, the fic where Steve fixes Eddie's hair before a show and falls in love immediately)

Word Count: 3K for this chapter, but it's an ongoing fic

Warnings: Eddie POV and he really likes saying the f-word, Hairstylist!Steve, Rockstar!Eddie, Robin is a lesbian disaster, nothing crazy yet but I reserve the right to get crazy later

A/N: Here's chapter 2 since the first part did so well! I won't always update this fast, but consider it my holiday gift to you all lol. Thanks for reading ❤️

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There were a few things Eddie Munson was 100% sure of.

He knew that his band, Corroded Coffin, was the Next Big Thing, and they were one lucky break away from blowing up.

He knew that marijuana sometimes made him do stupid things like attempt to cut his own bangs, but that the benefits far outweighed the consequences.

He knew that it had been way too long since he’d gotten laid, and that the band’s show was the perfect way to put himself out there again.

He knew that Steve Harrington was a total douchebag.

Eddie was what some might call a silent nemesis of King Steve back in their Hawkins High days. While he absolutely hated that preppy fuck, it was a completely one-sided rivalry due to the fact that Steve had literally no idea who the school freak even was. That in itself was enough to insult Eddie, who eventually learned to embrace his outcast status.

They lived in different worlds. Steve came from money, Eddie didn’t. Steve was popular, Eddie wasn’t. Steve smoked weed, not knowing Eddie was the one who sold it. He didn’t even seem to comprehend how easy he had it. How goddamn nice his life was.

But that was high school. Eddie was 25 now - a full-blown adult with friends, a mildly successful band, and a much more enticing reputation than he’d once had. Now, everybody wanted him, and he wasn’t going to pretend that he didn’t love that.

He figured he must be better in bed than Steve, but then he wondered why the hell he was thinking about that in the first place.

Maybe because being better than King Steve at sex would be a delicious kind of retribution.

Honestly, Eddie hadn’t thought much about Steve since he’d graduated. Well, since Steve graduated - it took Eddie an extra year. It’s so weird when someone takes up so much of your mind for so long, and then they just become some random person you wonder about sometimes.

Not that Eddie ever really wondered about Steve. Well, not often.

Look, people get curious about their former enemies all the time. That’s why people stalk their exes on social media, for Christ’s sake! And to Eddie’s credit, he only ever looked at Steve’s instagram once, while he was trashed, and it was completely an accident - he stumbled across a recommended profile showing a shirtless man on a beach, and Eddie’s only human, so of course he had to look.

Yeah. That was a confusing night.

There was probably only one single circumstance that would have forced Eddie to be nice to Steve, so naturally that one circumstance came to fruition. If it wasn’t for my goddamn hair, he thought to himself. I swear to god, I will end him if he pulls anything.

Eddie had never sobered up faster than when he caught a glimpse of his self-inflicted jagged bangs dangling over his eyes, 45 minutes before his show started.

“Dude, don’t worry about it. I can barely tell, and it’s kind of metal anyway,” his drummer said.

Jeff simply did not Get It.

Eddie was a dramatic person in general, but he was extra dramatic about music, roleplaying (in more ways than one), and his fucking hair. He wanted to feel confident up on that stage, and there was no way he could do that after he went full Eddie Scissorhands.

So, if Steve had to come back into his life at any moment, and if Eddie had to accept help from him, then sure. Have it be over hair. At least that was something he knew Steve could handle.

He didn’t realize it was Steve at first. It was in a back alley after dark, and Eddie was still kinda high. But once they were inside, there was no mistaking it, and he had to bite his tongue to keep from spitting any vitriol that would cost him his only hope.

Steve looked the same. Exactly fucking the same. Although, he was more toned now, and quite a bit more flamboyant. Eddie wondered if that was a requirement for anyone who went to cosmetology school. Not too many macho hair stylists out there, which was a damn shame because that was probably exactly Eddie’s type.

The worst part was that Steve wasn’t really a villain anymore. He was completely pleasant and professional working with Eddie, and the bastard undeniably did a fantastic job. So yeah, Eddie was nice to him. He wasn’t going to be a dick for no reason - at least not outwardly, or like, excessively. And since it was so short notice and pro bono, Eddie did think the right thing to do was buy Steve a drink to make up for it. It would give Eddie a chance to even the score. He didn’t want Steve out there in the world holding a returned favor over Eddie’s head until the end of time - that just wouldn’t do.

It was just one drink. One. Eddie could withstand a drink with anybody, and maybe he’d get the opportunity to humble-brag a little bit or get dirt on Steve/any of the other stupid popular kids from school that he probably still hung out with. Eddie thought, this is gonna make for a great story, I know it.

And yeah, it would. He just had no idea what kind of story it was gonna be.

“Oh my god, they sound even better live! Can you believe it!” Robin yelled at Steve once the concert was over. They’d applauded to their heart’s content after that final song, because damn, they deserved it. Steve never thought a band of that caliber could have originated from a place like Hawkins. And Eddie? Well, it’s clear how he felt about that.

“Yeah, that was awesome,” Steve agreed. The crowd dispersed, as some went to get another drink, some went to the dance floor, and others exited the bar completely. A group stationed themselves next to one of the doors leading backstage, and Steve figured they were the ones hoping to meet the band afterwards. He wondered if he was supposed to wait there too, or if that would seem too desperate. God, Steve Harrington hated looking desperate.

“Aren’t you glad you came out with me tonight?” she asked him, her eyes still sparkling from the concert.

“Yes, darling,” he responded, rolling his eyes. She scrunched her nose in response, and before she could tell him she hated being called ‘darling’ like she often did, Steve continued. “So, Eddie mentioned he went to high school with us?” Her face changed on a dime to one of shock and amusement.

“Wait, did you not know that?” She barked out a laugh. “Jesus, Steve. That’s why I got into Corroded Coffin in the first place.”

“Oh.” He shrugged, unsure of what else to say.

“So, this is the part where you tell me every word of your interaction with him, so that I can deduce how serious his offer was of us meeting up after.”

“Um, okay,” Steve agreed. He’d been friends with Robin long enough to know how much she loved details, even though Steve wasn’t that detail oriented of a person. “He was on the phone with someone all stressed about his hair, so I offered to look at it and told him I could fix it.”

“He was on the phone, where? In the bathroom?” Steve swallowed, knowing he was caught in a lie.

“Uh, no. I stepped outside for a second.” She eyed him suspiciously, so he kept going before she had a chance to say something snarky. “A-And he was really nervous about it which was kind of cute -” Shit, be cool, Steve “- I mean, he was just all out of sorts, you know? Pacing back and forth -”

“Too many details, Steve. I know what being nervous looks like,” Robin said, dryly.

“Right.” Steve really only rambled when he was hiding something. Or stressed about something. Or both, like in this case. “So I went to the dressing room with him and he lent me a pair of scissors, and then I fixed his hair real quick. He said he trusted me with it because of my hair, and that’s when he mentioned he knew me in high school.”

And then I accidentally looked him in the eyes and had to leave before I proposed, he thought to himself.

“Huh,” Robin said, processing. “So, when did the invitation come in?”

“Oh, well he said he’d buy me a drink as a thank you. I guess the band is going out and we’re welcome to join.”

“We? He said I could come too, specifically?” Steve nodded. “How did he know I was with you?”

“You texted me like three thousand times, Robin.”

“Oh, so you did get them. Funny how you only responded twice.”

“My hands were busy.” Steve nearly blushed at his own words, suddenly stuck on the thought of his hands busy with something else.

“Okay, well it sounds like a legit offer, then.”

“Yeah, I mean I’m pretty sure, anyway.” Steve looked to the stage door again. Only a few women were remaining, those brave souls, and they were all beautiful. He couldn’t even blame them for being so obvious about their affection for musicians, because it’s not like Steve was any different. He just didn’t want to be deemed as creepy or predatory if he joined them.

“God, they’re gorgeous,” Robin sighed, her gaze having followed Steve’s.

“Yeah,” Steve agreed. “You should go talk to them. That’s part of the reason you’re here, right?”

“I mean, it’s not the main reason,” Robin replied, nervous.

“What? They’re hot, and they like the same music as you, which is a great opening line.” Steve wanted to help Robin pick up women, sure, but there was an ulterior motive here. If he led her over to the girls, he’d have a reason to be waiting where Eddie was destined to show up.

“Yeah, but -”

“Come on, Robin. You were talking such a big game earlier about their fans being women.”

“Right. I’m often concocting ways to end up around beautiful women because I’m so cartoonishly awful at actually hitting on them.” Steve had seen this in action, and it wasn’t pretty. “Also, if they’re so interested in Eddie, wouldn’t that make them not interested in me??”

“Woah, quit spiraling, Buckley.” Steve put his hands on her shoulders, steadying her. “First of all, look at those women right now and tell me they’re not at least a little gay.” Robin looked back and took note of a few telltale signs - vibrant colored hair, undercuts, doc martens. She turned back to Steve.

“Okay, good point.”

“And secondly, I wouldn’t let you flounder up there and you know it. This is why we’re a team.”

“Yeah, and it’s also why everyone thinks we’re dating.” She rolled her eyes, but Steve could tell he’d gotten through to her.

“Yeah, we really should get you a shirt that says ‘LESBIAN’ on the back, huh?”

“My rainbow jumpsuit would probably do the trick,” she smirked. “Alright fine, let’s go.”

There was nothing - not one single thing - that Eddie enjoyed more than performing. He felt so in his element it hurt. Eddie had enough confidence as is, but throw a bunch of screaming fans in his face? People singing lyrics back to him that he wrote? That’s a fucking power trip.

He had to admit that he loved seeing Steve Harrington act all stupid in the front row. Eddie wasn’t sure if Steve was just supporting his friend, or hamming it up for shits and giggles, or if he actually was that big of a dork, but he loved it nonetheless.

When he walked off that stage, he was on cloud nine, and nothing could possibly change that. He knew the routine - he and the guys would congratulate each other on another successful show, they’d clean up their shit, and then Eddie would walk out and be greeted by the fans he was so fucking honored to have - there were always at least two just outside the door. These people treated him like he was a god or something - I mean, how was he supposed to not eat that shit up? And the best part about the diehard fans of his music was that they were equally as into rock and roll as he was, and usually just as quirky and weird - which to Eddie was the highest of praise.

It played out exactly how he’d imagined. When he walked out the stage door, he quickly noticed five girls buzzing with excitement over the chance to talk to him. This was the kind of thing he wasn’t sure he’d ever get sick of.

Looking at these women, he could see them all getting along quite well. Their style was cool, and they obviously had good taste in music…

His gaze drifted to the far more anxious pair at the end of the line - Steve and Robin. As if on cue, they both comically and conspicuously averted their eyes at the sight of Eddie. Oh, this might be more fun than I thought.

“Eddie!” One of the girls snapped him out of his trance. “That was an amazing show.” He looked at the woman in front of him, and it was times like these he most noticed the irony of him being gay. Like, this woman was fucking perfect, and women like this were frequently coming up to him after shows, and it didn’t even fucking matter. He almost felt bad for the poor girl, that she clearly liked him so much and had no idea he’d never feel the same. Then he looked at her again and realized she could easily get any guy she wanted, so he wasn’t too concerned about it.

“Thank you!” he responded, smiling. “And thank you for coming.” He winked at her, because he knew if he threw her a bone, it would give her a story to tell her friends later. And it worked, considering the blush on her face. After a quick conversation and a picture, he moved onto the next girl.

Steve was both impressed and disturbed by Eddie’s interactions with the women at the door. It was like he’d planted these girls just to show Steve he had game or something. Like, duh, of course he had fucking game. Look at him.

Whatever.

Steve tried not to ogle the dude, but Eddie was too preoccupied to notice anyway. Steve broke away to face Robin.

“Did you see him wink at her? Jesus…”

“What? No, I’m too busy trying to figure out how I can wink at her,” Robin whispered.

“Okay, well let’s start with please for the love of god don’t wink at her,” Steve suggested.

“It worked for him,” she pointed out.

“Yeah, well girls will ignore all kinds of shit for famous people who play the guitar.”

“What about normal people who play the trumpet?” she shot back, sardonic. Steve chuckled.

“You? Normal?” Robin smacked him playfully on the arm with fake offense.

“That’s so homophobic of you.” She let her joke sit for a bit, then broke out into a giggle.

“You guys, it’s Jeff!” a voice called from across the room. A few more people scattered towards the door, where the other band members were now exiting.

“Jeff went to our school too,” Robin informed Steve.

“That’s pretty cool.” He didn’t recognize Jeff, either. The girl in front of them in line turned around instantly.

“Sorry, did I just hear you say you went to school with Jeff?!” Robin and Steve stared at her with wide eyes, nodding in unison. “Dude, what? That’s amazing! Are you guys, like, friends then?”

“Uhhh-”

“Kind of, yeah,” Robin lied. “I mean, it’s been a minute, but -”

“That’s so cool. I’m Bri, by the way.” She held out her hand and waited for Robin and Steve to each shake it. They introduced themselves, awkwardly, having been caught off guard by this interaction and the lie that had accompanied it. “You guys make such a cute couple.”

There it was - The thing that happened all the damn time.

“Oh, we’re not together,” Robin replied. “We’re just friends. And not in the slow burn, will-they-won’t-they-will…way…”

“Robin…” Steve sighed, shaking his head.

“I mean, I’m a lesbian,” she continued. “Dunno if I’m supposed to just tell people that, but it’s out there now. Just don’t tell my grandma, right?”

Steve braced himself for whatever reaction Bri was about to give Robin after whatever the fuck that was. But surprisingly, she laughed.

“Ha, yeah. I won’t tell her, but it’s gonna make brunch with her tomorrow super weird.” Robin froze. Her flirting didn’t usually get her this far. She opened her mouth, but nothing came out.

“What I think my friend is trying to say is - “ Steve cut in, “- she is free tomorrow if you’re looking for something to do after brunch.” God dammit. Why am I never this smooth while flirting with people for myself??

Bri looked Robin up and down, then smiled.

“Yeah, I should be free.”

“This is where you give her your phone,” Steve whispered. Robin jolted back to reality enough to grab her phone from her pocket, unlock it, and hand it over to the beautiful woman in front of her who she successfully asked on a date. Well, technically Steve did the asking, but that didn’t matter because DATE!

“Cool,” Bri said, typing out her number into Robin’s messages. “Text me, then. It was nice meeting you guys.”

With that, she turned back around, as it was her turn to meet the band.

She was the last girl in line before Robin and Steve.

Next chapter

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Taglist: @ofherscarlettwitchways @paintballkid711 @abraca-fxckyou @allbimyself26 @jellybabiesforall @allbymyselfexceptformycactus @justaloadofgarbage-blog @alliemunsonsstuff @thefruityfours @hobbitnarwhal @calivanus @wreckmyplans-thatsmyman @antheia @goodolefashionedlovergal @lillemilly @undreamingscatworld

#hope you like this one guys I had fun with it!#st fanfic #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #me #writing #robin buckley #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #platonic stobin #robin and steve #eddie and steve #eddie munson x steve harrington #stranger things au #modern au #i wanna cut to the feeling

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comradekatara · 3 years

Note

ik this is an atla blog but... could we hear some of ur izumi headcanons? (perhaps a sprinkle of izumi x kya if ur feelin generous)

been sittin on this ask since april (sorry!!!) bc i wanted to give this question the attention it deserved (and also there are just. a lot of asks in the inbox to get thru. oof). also yess i’m glad someone else is as fascinated by the potential of kya/izumi dyke drama as i am. fwiw, all of this is canon-compliant with what we know (so far) from lok. some of these have already been said, but it never hurts to rehash deep lore...

izumi is found in a dumpster. when it becomes apparent to zuko that whoever left her there isn’t coming back for her, he decides to take her to a local orphanage. he’s halfway there by the time he has already become irrevocably attached to this quiet, curious, perfect baby and is like “okay my baby now” and takes her home.

when katara gets a postscript at the bottom of a letter from zuko that simply says “oh by the way i have a daughter now” katara doesn’t even respond to the pages upon pages he wrote about import taxes and all that boring shit. zuko merely receives one page in response and all it says is “YOU HAD SEX???? WITH A WOMAN????”

zuko refuses to tell katara the truth. her version is better.

izumi is raised by the firelord and a small army of lesbians. zuko has to stop his friends from trying to give her knives all the time. yes, knives used to be a very loving gift during the war, but he’s trying to teach her about nonviolence goddammit!!!

she never has a crisis of sexuality or feels any pressure to like boys. she’s a lesbian and she knows it. everyone but suki is secretly baffled by how well-adjusted this child is. (suki doesn’t get the big deal.)

izumi knows that she is the crown princess, and that this means that she is going to be firelord someday. zuko always told her that being firelord is about being able to use their nation’s resources to help as many people as possible, and since two of izumi’s favorite things are puzzles and helping people, she is really looking forward to being firelord.

her other favorite thing is reading, which zuko obviously encourages but also finds quite strange because he always assumed reading was an activity solely pursued by sadder, lonelier children.

because she often gets so engrossed in her books that she accidentally stays up all night reading in the dark, zuko gets in the habit of placing extra-long candles in her room that will burn all night so she doesn’t have to strain her eyes. as she gets older and starts spending more time in the library, she winds up just carrying a sack full of zuko’s candles around just in case. it quickly becomes a family joke--if you end up in a dark room, better find izumi.

she winds up wearing glasses by the age of six. zuko is very worried about what this means for her future until izumi points out that her favorite people are visually impaired and they’re doing just fine.

she really likes toph, but thinks her kids are super weird. one of them is very regimented and disciplined in a way she cannot vibe with, and the other is very self-absorbed and theatrical. whenever toph brings lin and su around the palace, izumi ends up hanging out with toph instead.

one of izumi’s favorite pastimes is sokkawatching, which is like birdwatching, but instead of birds, she is studying sokka. she shadows him around all day and takes notes on what it is he is doing. she will hide behind curtains during meetings or walk just far enough behind him that he can’t see her. eventually sokka asks izumi if she would just like to, um, hang out?? but she gets so upset that he is now onto her that zuko has to intervene and convince her that sokka has no idea what he’s talking about, and that she is a master of espionage. since her cover has been blown, she needs a new mark, and starts following mai around instead.

when izumi is eight years old, her great-uncle iroh takes her and her aunt azula to ember island to see a show. izumi has quite a mature appreciation for theater for an eight-year-old—she reads plays, as any child of her father surely would, and has been known to enjoy live performances in the capital—but she fucking hates this play. she squirms in her seat until azula would look monstrous if she didn't take her to the restroom, and there the two of them remain until the curtain call. when it's over, iroh is quite convinced that the two of them concocted that little scheme together… and he's exactly right.

izumi starts attending meetings when she is eleven, and she constantly interrupts to ask questions. if anyone is bothered by this they wouldn’t dare let zuko know. all her questions are so smart and incisive anyway that very few people can find it in them to be annoyed when they are far too busy being impressed.

some monarchs might have felt a bit alarmed, and perhaps unnerved by thoughts of their own mortality, if their daughter applied herself to studying the work of running a country at as young of an age and with as much alacrity as izumi does. zuko, on the other hand, has been hating his job and showing it since 101 AG. izumi suspects the duties of the firelord aren't nearly as bad as all that, but her father is sensitive, and was forced into the role at a particularly difficult time. for her, studying how to run the country that her father has so carefully reformed so that she can step into the role as early as possible is a generous gift.

because izumi is the crown princess, there is little chance of her making it to adulthood without navigating a few awkward encounters with boys who hope to woo her. zuko is too saddened by the idea to know how to begin to prepare her for it. but as it turns out, izumi doesn’t need that from him. starting around the age of 12, she observes that many of the staff around the palace tend to read a lot of old-fashioned romance novels. seeking to better understand the entertainment choices of the women with whom she spends most of her time, izumi selects a handful of books from that genre to read for herself. she finds story after story about young, attractive members of the royal court finding love with unlikely suitors and suitresses. though these books aren’t to her taste at all, she understands the appeal and makes the logical connection that this type of story is viewed as a sort of script—the most sensational path a princess could possibly take. she practices saying variations of "no thank you" in her bedroom mirror until she settles on a polite enough tone that even the most earnest suitor couldn't possibly take issue with it, and that's that.

izumi starts demanding more homework. this ultimately means more work for sokka, who has to create an entirely new curriculum designed just for her, and then has to sit there while she does her homework in case she has any questions. and then, once she’s done, they go over it together and even if she gets everything right she forces him to point out areas in which she could have improved. suddenly sokka longs for the days that katara (and later toph) would yell at him that math is stupid and they shouldn’t have to learn it because they can bend. how foolish he had been at the time… he should have savored that…

izumi's first crush is on mai. it's humiliating, since she's well aware that mai has been playing with her since she was in diapers (and even faintly aware that mai and zuko had some sort of ambiguous summer fling as teenagers that they are now too embarrassed to talk about), but for a short stretch of time between the age of twelve and thirteen, suddenly izumi sees her old family friend in a new and magical light. and during that same stretch of time, she faintly hates ty lee. this confusing intrusion of unwanted feelings leads to a humiliating moment that is best described as izumi's first tantrum. when she is invited to join the adults at a casual dinner, izumi dashes for the seat as far from her object of her affections as possible, and when ty lee teases, "what? do we smell?" izumi blushes and buries her face in her water. she doesn't look up from her plate until mai asks her (repeatedly, as it seems izumi didn't hear her) to pass the dumplings. at this point, izumi doesn't know what else to do but to shove the entire remaining portion of dumplings into her mouth all at once and then flee the room. so she does.

in the morning, she is mortified and apologizes to everyone for her poor conduct. mai and ty lee are nothing but understanding, and mai jokes that now she knows where zuko got his table manners. ty lee adds that izumi was going to have to do something immature at some point, or else no one was gonna believe she was human. the two of them leave court a few days later, and by the time they visit again a few months after that, izumi is relieved to find that her crush has faded away.

the first time izumi meets katara, she feels as if she is meeting a celebrity. since katara never comes to the fire nation if she can help it, their paths have yet to cross, but izumi has heard of her, as if she is this mythic creature, through many, many stories, each more outrageous than the last. izumi does not think that meeting katara will prove a particularly long encounter, since katara couldn’t possibly have the time of day for her. she is quickly proven wrong, since katara cooks her dinner herself and keeps piling more and more food onto her plate. izumi is too well-mannered to inform katara that she is full, and katara keeps insisting that she doesn’t eat enough. izumi has no idea how katara could possibly come to that conclusion, since they have known each other all of one hour, but according to katara, izumi must eat more.

other than trying to feed izumi every three seconds, katara is surprisingly normal. izumi had assumed she was some sort of terrifying goddess by the way people talk about her. she’s very warm and nurturing and personable and has no filter whatsoever. in fire nation meetings, everyone speaks formally as a sign of respect, but in the southern water tribe, apparently it’s considered rude if you’re not completely candid. at first, izumi is horrified by how freely people insult each other, but then she quickly becomes delighted by the fact that bluntness is considered a virtue, and formality, passive-aggression. everyone refers to each other by first name, no title, and they’re all like one big family. people still treat katara with reverence despite this, even though she makes it pretty clear that she’s tired of being hero-worshipped.

one of the most delightful qualities that izumi admires in katara is her ability to memorize, recite, and hunt down gossip. izumi is introverted and polite and would never dream of asking brazen questions like whether haru has finally seen sense and shaved that beast on his lip or whether toph is "still getting her story straight" about where her daughters came from. (as far as izumi knows, toph has only ever told just the one, tongue-in-cheek story: she made the girls herself out of clay and she'll earthbend them back into dust if they don't behave.) but izumi is awed by katara's willingness to just ask these kinds of questions and she decides to take a lesson from this approach. being direct doesn't hurt anyone when katara does it, and it's a skill that will eventually serve izumi very well as firelord.

the south pole is also where izumi first meets kya. to kya, who is being taught two very conflicting ideas of what the fire nation represents, meeting izumi firmly solidifies her in the “the fire nation is nice and progressive” camp. that said, she also knows that her mom would disapprove if she and izumi got involved… which only makes izumi all the more enticing, naturally.

katara teaches izumi about what she considers to be the core tenets of her culture: “communal living, versatility & resourcefulness, democracy, and looking cute on a budget.”

izumi returns to the fire nation convinced that the southern water tribe is the coolest place in the entire world (and not just literally). sokka is so incredibly proud.

and, by the second time she visits katara, izumi is far more comfortable with going penguin sledding.

izumi attempts to go through a phase of teenage rebellion when she is fifteen, but zuko puts an end to it by encouraging her. he’s like “fuck yeah be gay do crimes.” learning that her dad was once a baleful vigilante/highwayman immediately quells her desire for antics & tomfoolery.

...well. most antics, anyway. a few weeks before izumi's second visit to the south pole, kya sends izumi a letter that includes an illustration of a particular type of plant that grows in the fire nation palace garden and a request that she bring a clipping back with her next time. apart from the produce garden where they grow fresh fruit and vegetables for the palace, the palace garden is considered the domain of suki and her friends, so izumi naively enlists suki to help her to find it. suki smirks to herself as she directs izumi to the right place and helps her cut a generous clipping of it. and that's the story of how, on izumi's second visit to the south pole, kya introduces her to the joys of recreational weed: a secret hobby the two of them will indulge in together all their lives, whenever they happen to see each other.

(though this, too, becomes a little less cool and a little less sexy when, one night back in the fire nation, izumi steps out onto her balcony and sees her father, her aunt, toph, sokka, and suki all smoking weed in the courtyard below.)

by the time kya is seventeen, she has petitioned katara that she ought to go travel the world on her own, since she’s the daughter of a nomad and a swashbuckling heroine, so it’s only right. katara finally relents. kya basically just makes a round tour of all the lesbian hotspots across the globe, from visiting her favorite auntie toph, to living it up on kyoshi island, to the fire palace, with a certain princess in mind.

katara keeps insisting to kya that no, she’s not a homophobe, she just disapproves of monarchs! so as a test kya brings the most heinous girl she knows (who isn’t su, that is) over for dinner, and katara has to be extremely gracious the entire time. after she leaves she says to kya “wow....... I love her :’)”

kya and izumi share an intellectual bent, an appreciation for music, and a desire to see the world. they also share their first kiss. izumi breathlessly expresses her surprise that smart, worldly kya hasn't been there before with one of the boys or girls at the south pole, but kya waves a hand and says that no one there is cool enough for her. when kya asks why izumi hasn't kissed anyone before, izumi just quips that books don't have lips as soft as kya's.

they have a whole "together-when-we're-in-the-same-place; single-when-we're-not" thing going on for a while, but izumi really loves to write love letters, and before they know what's happened, they're monogamous and living on opposite sides of the world. oops!

they are very much in love. they are also fully aware that their relationship has an expiration date, and it is the second izumi becomes firelord. kya may be reluctant to admit it, but her mom was right: being involved with the firelord…. well it’s a bad look. she comes from a long line of anti-imperialist revolutionaries. she can’t exactly settle down with a monarch. izumi, having been raised by zuko, is about as anti-monarchy as a monarch possibly can be, so she understands completely. they both agree that their duties come first, and when they do break up, it will be amicable and mutual. their last days spent together while still technically a couple are bittersweet.

izumi’s coronation mostly involves all of zuko’s old friends taking turns squishing her cheeks (even though she is an adult, and also the firelord now) and tearfully regaling her with anecdotes from her childhood, which she remembers perfectly well because she was there. she very graciously hugs and thanks all of them for forging a path to peace, promising to make them proud. they all assure her they already are.

she and kya break up that night, by the turtleduck pond. it is a quiet, poignant goodbye.

the following week, kya immediately travels to the north pole to rebound with the most repressed lesbian she can find. she thinks it’s only fitting.

izumi has a lot more freedom as firelord than zuko ever did, in large part due to the fact that no one ever thinks to question her legitimacy. she has a very commanding presence, always giving off the vibe that she is the most intelligent person in the room (whereas, of course, zuko gives off the vibe that he is just a little boy who loves arson… well into adulthood).

izumi thinks in lists, much like sokka and her aunt azula; unlike most people she knows, her favorite historical avatar is not kyoshi or even yangchen, but szeto, but it’s for good reason. she groups like things into categories and she groups tasks into mental to-do lists which are of course completely different from the to-do lists she does need to write down. this will serve her well as she will eventually go down in history as one of the firelords with the most documentation on her life and the lives of her allies—which is of course part of the point. so of course, she's also strategic about what she doesn't write down: the sexualities of the family friends one generation above her; the quiet trade agreement between the fire nation and the water tribes that favors the water tribes just enough that it would be a whole thing if certain loud fire nation citizens got word of it; and the story of the one time she kissed lin beifong.

izumi’s personal pet project is the implementation of countless public libraries across the country, which also double as shelters. the same way that zuko had a reputation as being the firelord who really revitalized theatre, izumi has a reputation for being horny4libraries, and she’s proud of that reputation, dammit.

one day, for seemingly no reason, sokka decides that he is simply too old to be micromanaging royalty. it was cool and funny and, well, necessary when he was 16, but now he really does have better things to be doing with his time. this doesn’t stop izumi from wheedling him for diplomatic advice, because she refuses to part with such a valuable asset, so instead sokka agrees to play her in pai sho whenever she “needs it.” she always knows exactly how to solve her problem immediately after a game’s conclusion. zuko doesn’t understand how that works at all, but azula’s like “lol classic sokka.”

toph takes izumi on a life-changing field trip to go look at bugs in the woods, and all the headlines that week read variations on “NOTORIOUS EARTHBENDING ANARCHIST KIDNAPS FIRELORD, HOLDS HER HOSTAGE IN A FOREST.” neither of them are aware of the political scandal they’ve caused because they were too busy studying cool bugs.

as izumi approaches 50, she decides to treat herself to a birthday gift that becomes her pride and joy: a top-of-the-line future industries motorcycle. her father may choose to travel the world in style on druk, but izumi's tastes run more toward ground transportation (which is to say: she gets violently airsick, and seasick, too). of course, she can only really ride it anywhere if she's prepared to either travel with a motorcade or sneak out past her guards and keep her face hidden the whole time she's out. the former cramps her style and limits her speed, so she chooses the latter. she generally takes it short distances, just far to get some air, but on one memorable occasion when lin beifong is visiting ember island, she takes it all the way through the mountains and down to the beach just to see the look on that crabby old cop's face.

izumi names her son after her beloved late grunkle… mostly because it was the only way to satisfy sokka, who insisted that since, decades ago, he won a bet against zuko to someday name his grandchild, it was only fair that he get naming rights. zuko, at the time having assumed that he would never have grandchildren, was like “yeah okay whatever,” but sokka never forgot. as if he would ever pass up the opportunity to publicly embarrass the fire nation royal family! but he had to admit that iroh was a pretty good name. almost as good as Sokkaruleszukodrools, which unfortunately and unjustly got passed over.

izumi always loved aang, and found meditating with him to be really clarifying. it's only natural that his death breaks her heart. but it's in her nature to come up with a productive outlet for any emotion she feels, even grief, and that holds true in this case. she is walking through the library on air temple island when it hits her: there ought to be an "official" biography of avatar aang and his life, dictated by his friends. though her initial idea was to hire one of her many respected writer friends for the job, kya and tenzin insist that it'll only be worth anything if izumi writes it. so she does. a biography of the avatar, written by the firelord. friendships last more than one lifetime after all.

izumi is, of course, aware of the new avatar from the moment she's born. the notes she has on korra fill an entire cabinet of scrolls and notebooks (as any of her advisors knows, her choice of paper just depends on how fancy she's feeling). korra is nearly sixteen by the time she's ready to learn firebending, and izumi personally sends the ship that will pick her up and take her to the fire nation. since she has not met korra before and doesn't know her tastes, izumi makes sure the ship is fully stocked with plenty of soft, comfortable clothing in all colors and sizes, all meant to be reasonably modest while still suitable for the warm weather korra will run into on the journey. so izumi is understandably surprised when she meets the ship at the docks and finds korra in a jaggedly sewn scarlet crop top that she clearly tailored herself. korra blushes and explains that she's never experienced warm weather before and got a bit overzealous. they laugh about it, and izumi orders a whole closetload of more teenage-friendly clothing to be delivered to korra's quarters.

zuko dies peacefully, in his sleep, at an old and happy age, but that doesn’t mean his death doesn’t affect izumi. she immediately takes time off to crash at the south pole with katara and kya, and they spend the next few weeks just sitting by the fire, swapping stories about their respective adventures, and having a lovely (albeit extremely tearful) time. izumi then goes to visit toph and suki in the earth kingdom, who are both apparently chilling in different parts of the same vast swamp. they teach her about how everything in the swamp is connected, that separation and time and death are all illusions. finally, the last leg of her trip is spent on ember island, where she sits by the beach, staring at the moon’s silver reflection on the black sea, and once more feels at peace.

316 notes · View notes

khaleesiofalicante · 3 years

Note

Ok imma be honest, this chapter moved me to tears and not the sad sobbing but the more inspiring kind. This chapter means the world.

She had told them her dreams were about ducks – since there were the only equally horrible thing she could think of.

Uncle Magnus had given her an odd look then, as if he knew she was bullshitting them. But he hadn’t said anything.

DUCKS AREN'T THAT BAD! HAVE Y'ALL EVER BEEN CHASED BY A GOAT?? I WAS CONVINCED I WAS GONNA DIE

Lexi would be royally pissed if this turned out to be some stupid pointless dream.

YUP

Even though she was only 7 minutes older than Lexi, Selena always acted like she was 7 years older.

That's so cute though

People looked at her pastel-coloured aesthetic immediately assumed she was the soft and sweet Fairchild twin. People saw Selena in her red leather jacket and thigh high boots and assumed she was in the infamous troublesome Herondale twin.

SMH THE DAMN STEREOTYPES

Why Selena hadn’t killed her in her sleep yet, Lexi doesn’t know.

BYE THAT'S EVERY SIBLING RELATIONSHIP EVER

The meals at the Academy were to die for – quite literally. Last week two students from the warlock fraction had almost killed each other over a blueberry muffin.

Oh how times change...they will never know the dreaded soup

NO ANJALI HAS BEEN GONE FOR OVER A YEAR???

IS JAIME OK?? PLEASE BE OK! HE CAN LIVE WITH TREATMENT SO I REALLY HOPE HE'S OK

Selena’s was Idris of course. She was kind of obsessed with it.

Max loved the shadow markets. Lexi thought they were very cool too.

Rafael loved his father’s office – which was weird. There was nothing to do in that room other than ponder about shadow world problems. Besides, the place still weirdly smelled like the tangerine perfume Anjali wore, even though the girl had left New York almost a year ago.

David loved the New York Institute – especially the library.

Gigi of course loved the dining halls.

Dining halls, kitchens, food trucks, vending machines - if a place had food with it, Gigi loved it.

It's so amazing how they all have their favorite places...(same David same)

“You’re supposed to pour the syrup on the pancakes not into your mouth,” Lexi chuckled as she sat down next to her.

“It ends up in my mouth anyway,” Gigi shrugged.

True enough.

AWW ROMAN MAKING GIGI PLAYLISTS!!

Someone make me a playlist.

“His parents fell in love in Rome when they were in Rome,” Gigi pointed out even though Lexi already knew. “I think it’s actually romantic.”

I had forgotten that-

Roman was nice. But not nice enough for Georgia. Lexi didn’t think there was anyone good enough for her parabatai – who was the most perfect person in the world.

Me @ anyone who tries to make a move at my best friend.

AWW GEORGIA LIKES HIM TOO!!

When's the wedding?

(you're telling me you didn't believe you were gonna marry your childhood crush? Liar)

“I like being his friend,” Georgia said. “I like spending time with him and all of that. But I don’t know if I like him…in that way. I feel like I need more time.”

Demiromantic??? YES GIVE US THE REP

Lexi sometimes thought life would be so much simpler if the world was full of women and everyone was a lesbian.

Ikr?? Life would be so much easier.

Lexi says Roman is too-nice-sus

Well well well

The kind of love that cheated death.

The kind of love that sustained memory spells put by princes of hell.

The kind of love that changed the world.

Trust me all of our standards are very high

Lexi successfully survived the class without falling asleep.

Me during English.

Ok who's the blond?

Lexi I thought we weren't gonna fall this soon-

Oh the girl's straight...sigh we've all been there.

which meant they had to hold hands. Kinda.

Lexi was a little scared of that.

Me.

Goddamnit, Alexandra. Get your gay together!

THAT'S SO RELATABLE LIKE?? YES

OH MY GOD IT'S EMMA AND JULIAN'S DAUGHTER GEIDIDHDOHDJSKSJSKGXJDHSODHKDGDDGDJHDJDGDJDGJDHD

Lexi knew Olivia liked boys. She hadn’t dated anyone officially of course. All the boys were kind of terrified of her father.

She could be bi or pan or omni. WE GOTTA HAVE HOPE

vegetable loaf... David I'm so sorry you had to go through this.

Lexi then decided not to do any of her homework over the weekend because she was not coming back to the academy. She was not going to survive the sleepover and whatever else Olivia had in mind.

Bestie...why is this me when I make eye contact with my crush.

“Good stuff?” Max snorted. “Rafe literally ran away from home cause shit got too intense.”

“I didn’t run away!” Rafael rolled his eyes. “Stop telling people that!”

“But you have rumours and shadowhunters getting thrown into silent city and cohort drama and all that exciting stuff!” Liv pointed out.

I-

Liv-

True though.

“Wasn’t there a serial killer when your parents were young?” David asked.

“And didn’t your uncle do necromancy?” Max said biting into a chicken wing.

True and true

“Sorry, Chouchou!” Lexi winced. “I, uh, sensed a mosquitoe on your leg.”

“Girl, your angel powers are weird as fuck,” Max laughed.

MAX LANGUAGE

“I don’t know,” the girl shrugged and threw her a wink. “I wouldn’t put anything past Lexi.”

Lexi looked at Gigi. She was one more compliment away from screaming.

But Gigi of course knew her struggle and therefore quickly stuffed a bread roll into Lexi’s mouth.

I need someone to stuff bread into my mouth when things get like this

There were rumours about David – and how Daddy had an affair. Lexi was yet to find those asshats and shove a witch light down their throats.

When you find them lemme know too.

“Or maybe it’s because you don’t need rumours be interesting,” David pointed out.

Max turned around, looking surprised at that. His cheeks turned purple. Lexi didn’t know why he was surprised. David only ever spoke fondly of Max.

JUST GET TOGETHER ALREADY OH MY GOD

“Oh. Oh! I did hear something a long time ago!” Gigi said suddenly. “Olly, is it true you were conceived at the beach?”

“Georgia, you can’t just ask people where they were conceived!” David sounded horrified.

That is very much possible.

“I heard you were conceived in hell?”

“Oh my god,” Selena looked horrified. “That’s not true! It must have been about Max!”

“Y’all I am adopted!” Max was shaking with laughter and then stopped. “Although our dads could have definitely had sex in hell. I wouldn’t put it past them.”

Oh yes. Both clace and malec.

Then they had of course continued to discuss that cursed topic until Rafael had threatened to tell the Consul about it.

LMAO

Lexi turned around and saw Liv waiting for her. Nope. She wasn’t going to talk a walk – a fucking stroll! – with Olivia all on her own.

“You are coming back to the institute with me or I will un-parabatai you.”

You know there being an un-parabatai ceremony would solve a lot of shit

What if their hands accidentally grazed or something? That shit was lethal.

RIGHT????

She is just trying to be nice. That’s what friends do. They are nice. And they give each other pretty dresses and say they would like to see them in it.

Honey that's gay.

EVERYONE ASKING HER OUT IM DEAD

Selena: Ugh boys

Selena: When I win back Idris, we are leaving all the men behind.

Lexi: Except Magnus? Lol.

Selena: Obviously.

Is that even a question Lexi? Duh.

ALEC LIGHTWOOD THOUGHT SHE WAS STRAIGHT? THE SHAME!

OH MY GOD IM CACKLING

Not everyone can kiss their partner in the Accords Hall. Some people didn’t have access to the Accords Hall.

And most important, some people didn’t have partners!

We're getting a lexi and Alec talk someone hold me

“I’m going to tell you something,” Uncle Alec said. “It might sound simple. It might sound ridiculous. But it’s the truth. So, you must believe me. Can you do that?”

Lexi gave him a small nod.

“It doesn’t matter what other people think,” Uncle Alec said. “Not when it comes to your future. Not when it comes to your identity. They don’t get to have a say in who you are and why you are the way you are.”

Lexi bit her lip.

“Alexandra, people will always tell what to do. But you shouldn’t let them. Never let anyone tell you what to do with your heart or your body. Neither belongs them. It only belongs to you.”

THIS RIGHT HERE MADE ME START CRYING BECAUSE DAMN YES!

“Yep,” she groaned and then hesitated for a moment. “Uncle Alec…Can I ask you something stupid?”

“Can I say no?”

“No.”

“Then go ahead.”

I love her so much

“I feel…I feel it’s something we have to bear, Alexandra. The fear of rejection. It’s something we have to accept as an inevitable part of our lives. Because no matter how much love we have around us, we will always be afraid of people not loving us – simply because of who we are.”

Yeah...

“Besides, they named you after me,” he pointed out. “I don’t know what else they expected.”

EXACTLY! Did they really expect a straight child after naming them after Alec?

“I do like shouting,” Lexi wondered out loud. “That’s good advice.”

“I didn’t mean it literally!” Uncle Alec looked alarmed.

“No, it makes total sense!” Lexi grinned. “Some of these people can be tone deaf. Gotta shout it out. Loud and clear. Awesome advice! Thanks, Uncle Alec!”

DO IT

“Hey, Lexi. I was wonderin-”

“MOVE, I’M GAY!” she yelled as she shoved him aside and kept on running.

ABSOLUTELY ICONIC

“I prefer she/her,” Lexi answered. "But sometimes I prefer she/they. But you can use she/her because some of y'all already shit at grammar."

That's exactly what I tell people when they ask for my pronouns. Istg people are shit at grammar.

alright girl im here to give you a lecture on how someone's dressing doesn't describe their sexuality

OH MY MY GOD THERE WAS A GENDER AND SEXUALITY CLASS IN THE ACADEMY ARE THEY RECRUITING???

One of the boys who had complimented cleared his throat. “So, uh, you don’t like boys?”

“That’s literally what I said,” Lexi rolled her eyes. “I’m gay. I’m very gay. I’m gayer than the Consul. Okay fine, that’s not true. No one gayer than the Consul. But I’m still pretty gay.”

Does the boy have hearing problems?

ALSO YES NO ONE'S GAYER THAN THE CONSUL

“Sexual orientation and gender expression are two different things,” she explained now, remember what Uncle Magnus had taught them. “Sexual orientation refers to who I am sexually and romantically attracted to. Gender expression is how I want to express my gender identity. Those two are not connected. Just because a woman wears feminine clothes it doesn’t mean she is straight. Just because a man embraces femininity, it doesn’t make him gay either. Does that make sense?”

“Ohhh,” the girl nodded. “Yes, it does. Thank you!”

“What I wear does not reflect who I like. It reflects who I am and what I like to wear,” Lexi explained. “And regardless of my sexuality, I like pretty things.”

Exactly.

“This doesn’t change anything. I hope you know that,” he told her. “I mean I have to change the pronouns in my shovel talk. But that’s not a big deal.”

Awwww

Also – my good friend Raziel told me that homophobia is a sin.”

“You mean homosexuality is a sin?” an older man asked.

“No, homophobia is a sin,” Lexi repeated. “That’s what Raziel said.”

“But that’s not-”

Someone cleared their throat. When he spoke, it was in the Consul Voice.

“Are you saying know better than Raziel?” the Consul asked.

Listen to Raziel you dumb shit

“Sure. Let me just call the Lesbian Alliance,” Lexi rolled her eyes.

Ugh I wish

OH NO NO NO NOT THE FAKE DATING. JUST CONFESS AND DATE FOR REAL

“Alexandra, I have a fucking undercut and I have pink highlights and I cuff my jeans and I literally walk around with a sword and I can quote Lady Gaga to perfection! Why would you ever think I was straight??”

Lexi your gaydar is broken bestie.

Don't do this omg this is gonna be a mess

Gigi: THIS IS A BAD IDEA. ABORT! ABORT!

Lexi: Relaaaax. It’s going to be fine!

Gigi: I’ve read enough fanfiction to know the fake dating trope never ends well!

Lexi: I’ve told you to include the ‘angst with happy ending’ tag!

LMAO

Also Gigi which fanfiction do you read?

Jace omg...

That's so him though.

“How about my peeps? It sounds very hip.”

“It does not,” Lexi replied. “Please don’t refer to us as your peeps under any circumstance."

IM SCREAMING ASHSKHSIDBSHSHDH

Her father chuckled at that. “Sweetheart, you’re a Herondale. Being problematic is what we do.”

EXACTLY

Daddy opened the notebook again. “I need names.”

Grabs flamethrower names

“Besides, the Lightwoods and Blackthorns have been hogging the gay genes for too long. Now it’s our turn. I say you gay it up.”

“Gay it up?” Lexi laughed.

“Yeah,” he grinned. “Go for the highest possible level of gay.”

DO IT

He blinked for a second and then it hit him. “OH MY GOD YES! DOES EMMA KNOW??”

Lexi laughed. Yeah, he can never find out it was a fake dating situation.

Hopefully he won't have to because it won't be fake :D

“To love is a privilege and to be loved is a blessing.”

THE GROWTH OH MY GOD

This chapter literally means so much to me. I don't even know what to say. I hope I too can one day have the courage to shout it in front of everyone and not be scared. See ya on Tuesday!

It means so much to me that this chapter meant a lot to you. I hope you find all the courage, strength and support you need. You are amazing.

And here. I made you a playlist.

You can find it here on YouTube. I hope you like it :)

#lbaf

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tiadres · 3 years

Text

30 Day Dragon Age OC Challenge

Day 5: Sexuality

Anwen is lesbian and polyamorous. She didn’t really have much experience of romance or sex prior to her relationship with Josephine. Back home Anwen was always very absorbed in her studies, and spent her free time either with her friends and family or wandering the woods. She just didn’t really think about romance that much. But once she was out in the world and everything about her life changed overnight, it was easier to start seeing new possibilities around her.

I know there’s a day for courtship later but I feel like this is the proper place to talk about Anwen’s love life a bit as it is related to this theme. Anwen fell in love with Josephine and eventually Lace Harding as well. She first got serious and established with Josie and simply harbored a small crush for Lace, but she didn’t really say anything about it until sometime in the two year period between defeat of Corypheus and the Exalted Council. Things turned out well and all three of them ended up happily in a throuple with each other.

At first, Anwen comes across a bit awkward when talking about sex, but as time passes and she gains experience, she gets pretty good at it. However it takes a long time before she and Josie actually have sex for the first time because they wish to take things slow and just enjoy each other’s company. And both of them generally prefer kissing, cuddling and other forms of affection like that over sex. It’s pretty much the same with Lace. While it takes some time for Anwen to get smooth and perfectly comfortable when talking about sex, she is actually quite fluent with flirting because the kind of romantic, chivalrous treatment that Josie especially enjoys comes pretty naturally for Anwen.

Now some meta talk regarding the subject, as Anwen’s sexuality has actually changed drastically from when I first created the character. Back when I first played DAI, I had seen lots of cute Cullavellan fanart and was convinced that that would be the romance I wanted to play. So I did and it was sweet, but as time passed and I got more acquainted with the lore and with my own character, I realized that Cullen was not the right for Anwen. Something just felt off about that. I wanted to replay her story anyway so it was the perfect opportunity to change her love interest to someone who’d be a better match for her.

I instantly thought of Josie and Lace because I could see how either one of them would be so amazing with Anwen, and why Anwen would be drawn to them. For a while I considered going for Blackwall because I personally like him and the Grey Wardens a lot, but even if I’d be interested in seeing Blackwall’s romance, he just didn’t feel like Anwen’s type. That’s when I realized that Anwen might just be solely into women, and that thought sat right with me. It’s one of those instances when your character kind of tells you something about themselves, you know?

Similarly Anwen being poly was kind of revealed to me as I pondered about all of this. The choice between Josie and Lace was really hard and I really loved the idea of Anwen with either one of them. I felt kind of sad choosing one over the other. In the game of course you must choose one and I ended up going for Josie because poor Lace isn’t even in the Keep, but I realized that I could still very well headcanon that they’re all together with each other. And that feels like the right choice.

So that’s the story of how Anwen, whom I first played to be in a relationship with a man, turned out to actually be lesbian and polyam 😅💕

Want to do the challenge as well? Here are the prompts

#da #dragon age #dai #30dayDAchallenge #Anwen Lavellan

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fedonciadale · 3 years

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Hi, so I saw you are mainly a Jonsa fan and I really liked your Metas and wanted to ask you something.

I believe that Sansa is Bi, but is very repressed on her WLW side. What do you think of those of us who think she is Bi or even Lesbian.

Hi there!

Thank you!

obviously, your headcanons can be your own, and if you want to think about Sansa as Bi or Lesbian, do that!

Seeing how Sansa describes women in her PoV it is certainly a possibility. Sansa only knows is heterosexual relationships. And she is still at an age where she might not be sure about her sexuality. I think sexuality is a spectrum anyway, and I believe that the lines are not entirely clear cut. I would say there is definitely room for that interpretation. And in a very strict heterosexual society it is entirely possible that Sansa would not be aware of her WLW side. And it is possible that GRRM wrote her that way, although I would say that the evidence is not conclusive.

It is possible that GRRM does not want to give off bisexual/lesbian vibes at all (You getting these vibes is another thing and absolutely o.k. We do not have to read a book strictly according to the author’s intention!)

One thing you have to consider that although GRRM is not the worst when it comes to women’s PoVs, he is not the best either. And it is possible that his male gaze or his inability to really channel a preteenage girl (I mean all the children do not really act their age). So he sort of describes the women Sansa sees as beautiful and attractive because that is how he would describe them. I honestly do not believe this to be the case, because he is too meticulous a writer for that. I just point it out to get all the angles.

Another thing is that GRRM might be mistaken about how female friendship is expressed (at least in part). That is actually very likely. Because he simply does not get female friendship and he does not get how it works (other than ‘the girls giggle together’ that he portrays with Sansa and Jeyne). So, that is a possibility.

Another possibility is that he wants to write Sansa having a girl crush first on Cersei and after Cersei’s betrayed her, Sansa moves on to a crush on Margaery. That is also possible. I consider myself straight and yet my childhood girl crushes were pretty intense. Also thinking and talking about the beauty of other women does not necessarily mean sexual attraction.

And there is yet another angle - which I think makes it highly unlikely that a WLW relationship will ever be explicitly written out for Sansa - regardless of the fact that GRRM might have intentionally written her as bisexual.

Sansa is living in a heterosexual society, where alliances are made with heterosexual marriages and where it is absolutely essential to get children. I do think that the Stark line will depend on her and that she will get children. Since I don’t want Sansa to be unhappy, the children hopefully come from a loving relationship. I really don’t believe that the Stark line will die out.

It would of course be possible, that Sansa gets a sperm donor and raises her children with her female bae, but I honestly think that all in all ASOIAF is too traditional for such an ending. Sansa as Queen in the North must consider politics.

Funny thing is that the same can be said for Jon. You can read him as bisexual (Satin!) but the evidence is not conclusive. Men do realize that other men are good looking, even straight men.

And although there are LGB in GRRM’s world (not sure about trans or asexuals), the series was started in the 90s and I doubt we’ll get a happy openly wlw couple by the end.

There is also the fact that GRRM’s sex scenes are not put into the books to give the characters some nice time. They usually are there to show things about the characters (Jaime’s selfishness, Tyrion’s need to be valued, etc.) (Notable exception is Ned/Cat: that is just there to show us how happy they are)

But since we probably won’t get the books anyway, there is absolutely nothing that prevents you from spinning your own tale and have a happy Sansa/Mya relationship as your ending.

TLDR: you can argue that Sansa is bi or lesbian and has not yet come to the realization of her wlw side. If GRRM wrote it like that on purpose is not easy to decide. The importance of marriage alliances and children does make it rather unlikely that a wlw relationship (as in openly lived and approved of) will be endgame.

Thanks for the ask!

#anon ask #Sansa Stark #Sansa's sexuality

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btsiguess · 4 years

Text

Self Indulgence (m) - Oneshot

Summary: Professor Yoonji can’t help but notice that the teacher’s pet is looking quite attractive today...

Pairing: Yoonji/Reader

Genre: PWP. JUST SMUT.

Word Count: 2905

Warnings: PROFESSOR YOONJI.....uhhh professor/student relationship which is soooo inappropriate even if it’s lowkey hot... ahhh. Choking, sweet sweet lesbian action

A/Ns: I’m so sorry guys. I’m actually druNK right now. Like so drunk i couldn’t even give it a read through at the end........so please forgive......... everything....

“It’s weird that you want to fuck the teacher.” Seungmin says, eyeing the way your stare follows professor Min around the classroom.

She knows you’re absolutely not paying attention to the class lecture. The way your hand doodles crudely drawn vaginas on the page in front of you does enough to illustrate that. You’re not quite sure why it was vaginas today. Maybe something about wanting to shove your face in one had something to do with it?

“And what do you all think?” Your ears perk up at your professors words. Dr. Min Yoonji, standing at the front of the class, asking for your attention even though she can tell all of you are bored. “What do you think about cultural hybridization? Is it a reality or simply a connotatively positive term for American imperialism?” You sigh happily at her words. She looked so good when she was speaking dense academic language. You press your thighs together.

Professor Min was probably somewhere in her mid-forties. Although it was near impossible to tell since she dressed so hip. You had an inkling that she might be queer as well, but nothing definitive. Perhaps that’s why you were drawing pussys on your class notes… hoping she just might see it and know.

“I think it’s absolutely different! Hybridization is all about globalization.” Juahn says. Of course he does. He was such a fucking brown noser. He had his head so far up Min’s ass, even you didn’t want to stick your tongue there. And that was impressive, because you’d take what you could get. He was wrong too. Just speaking so that Min would look at him. God you hated that stupid fucker. Sometimes he sent professor Min articles. You’re not saying that it was necessarily bad to engage with your teacher on the class work, but you knew that it was because he was vying for her attention. Attention that should have gone to you. And you thought it was disrespectful anyway, since she treated her as if he knew more than her. Like she didn’t have an entire PhD in the fucking field. What a cuck.

Your sneer doesn’t go unnoticed by Professor Min, who singles you out immediately.

“Oh? Y/N. Do you disagree? Speak your mind.” It wasn’t unusual that she call on you. The class was relatively quiet when it came to class discussions, apart from you and Juahn. Still your heart fluttered at the attention.

“I just think it’s hard to say whether it’s either or. It depends how much each culture has influenced the specific, like, new culture. I’m not sure if it’s quantifiable?” Your professor hums at your words and you watch Junahn’s back straighten slightly in aggravation. It was no secret the two of you didn’t like one another. And you had the text message arguments to prove it. You weren’t even quiet of your distaste for the boy in the class and the professor seemed to know it and thrive off of it. Was it hot? Absolutely.

“Right, well,” Dr. Min says, cutting the conversation short, “that’s all the time we have for today, unfortunately.” The class sighs in relief. “Make sure to do the readings. And Y/N? If you could stay after class. Thank you.”

Seungmin shoots you a look as a slight flush of red colors your cheeks. It’s a look that says “don’t be excited our teacher wants you to stay after. That probably means you’re in trouble.” ... At least. That’s what you imagine the look would say, if looks could talk.

You make your way to the front of the room, standing quietly as your professor wipes the board. Once the classroom is completely empty, she turns to you again.

“Perhaps if you were more focused on class instead of drawing female genitalia in your notebook, you might’ve done better on the midterm.” She says simply. Your mouth drops open. You had done well on the midterm! You’d gotten a 37/40. A 92%. 7 points above the class average.

“You did well,” Min continues, “but you weren’t the highest grade in the class. You were second. Behind Juahn.” Your blood boils and she smirks—full on smirks—at you.

“I thought that would get your attention.” She said. “Just understand. I like pussy too, but class isn’t the time to be thinking about it so thoroughly.” You bite your lip as your cheeks color red with embarrassment and slight arousal at the way Min Yoonji’s mouth had curled delicately around the word pussy.

There’s a slight pause in the conversation as Yoonji lets her eyes watch the way you worry your lip between your teeth. So cute. In Yoonji’s youth, you were exactly her type. Shy, nervous, … totally devoted. If Yoonji had been any younger she would’ve had you already; had your body arching underneath her, your pussy clenching around her tongue and fingers. She knows you have a little schoolgirl crush on her. How could she not know? You practically wrote it across her forehead. She had an inkling during the first semester you had class with her. You had even titled your final essay “Every time I read Kipling I remember why I’m gay” just to get her attention. And get her attention it did…

Originally, she had done her best to ignore it. You were her student, after all. But Yoonji had always been a bit reckless. It’s that fact that leads her to ask you the worst possible question she could have.

“Why pussy? Were you thinking about someone eating yours? Or you eating someone else’s?”

The older women can’t help but smile as your face goes bright red. Yoonji imagined that while you had been hoping desperately to get her attention, you’d never actually thought you’d have it.

“P-Professor, I’m sorry about not paying attention! It won't happen again!” You turn to flee from the room, but Yoonji catches you gently by the elbow.

“It’s alright, Y/N. You’re not in trouble. And you didn’t answer my question.” Yoonji isn’t proud of herself for succumbing to your coy temptation. She feels altogether too much like all the skeezy old men that used to solicit her. But she also knows she’d treat you better than all of them. Teach you more than all of them.

Yoonji should’ve realized that you would be a problem from the very first month, when she had wound up checking the school’s database for your age. You were nearly 23, almost graduated, but that meant little. You were well past too young for her, and she knew it.

But Yoonji knew she was past waiting. She couldn’t help that she wanted you. She didn’t want to deny herself, either. Yoonji wasn’t a good person, and she didn’t pretend to be.

“Both, Professor.” You finally say. And Yoonji’s eyes follow the way in which your thighs squeeze together.

“You know,” Yoonji says, and you try your best to focus on her voice, despite how distracted you are by the thought of her going down on you. “I know you have a little bit of a crush on me.”

You wish the ground would swallow you whole.

“Don’t look so embarrassed.” Your Professor scoffs. “I like the idea. Much more than I should. And I think you’ve teased me for far too long, hmm? Why don’t you hop up on that desk there. Be a good girl for me.” You scramble to follow her instructions. Knowing that it’s wrong and not caring in the slightest.

Yoonji wastes no time pushing your knees apart so that your skirt rides up your knees and reveals your underwear.

“You’re wet already, I can see it.” She teases. “Is it just from my voice? Do you sit in class all wet like this for me every day?” Her thumb begins to delicately trace over the wet patch on your underwear. Making your hips twitch in desire. You must be dreaming. You must be.

Yoonji slides her fingers past your panties, and finds your clit with practiced ease.

“Ahh,” she sighs. “You’re so delicate. So perfect…” She shuffles in between your knees, getting close enough to brush your nose with her own.

Her thumb, moving in easy circles, is driving you mad. You’re helpless in her arms, whimpering quietly as the woman you’ve been lusting after for the greater part of two semesters begins tracing softly up and down your core.

You lament briefly the loss of stimulation on your clit, but bite your lip hard at the feeling of your professor’s teasing. With each slow pass of her fingers, her index finger catches against your swollen nub, making you shake with want.

Something about the way that her ministrations are altogether too light to actually get you to cum makes you crazy. You can’t help but let your mind run wild. You were putty in Yoonji’s hands, completely at her whim. She could keep you here for hours. Just slowly tracing you up and down, watching you pant and sweat, desperately wanting to cum but being unable to.

“Do you like this, Y/N? I’m hardly giving you anything at all…” She tuts quietly. “No one’s ever treated you right before have they?”

“P-Professor--” You try to respond but suddenly the girl in question presses two fingers inside of you, the stretch making your head fall back and your hands grasp at Yoonji’s wrist.

“Can you hear yourself, sweetheart?” Yoonji says, pressing her mouth against the exposed column of your neck. “Can you hear how wet you are? All for me, right?” The squelching of your sex turns the both of you on. You because it’s finally happening, and her because… well, of course she likes the sound of you aroused for her.

You nod, your breath hitching as she sinks her teeth into your skin.

Yoonji works her fingers hard within you. Curling to find the spot that has you writhing against her.

Yoonji knows what she is doing. You’ve clearly never had a good fuck from anyone before, and Yoonji is a bit smug over the way she’s worked you up so easily. She’d never fucked someone so young before. And she had definitely never fucked one of her students. But somehow, she didn’t feel as guilty as she should, too would up in the way you were biting your lip to keep from moaning out loud at the pleasure she was giving you.

“P-Professor,” You groaned, wanting to say something more, but not having the strength to.

Yoonji was surprised at how malleable you had become at the touch of her fingers. She felt herself start to get wet at the feel of you around her fingers, feeling the tight clenching which signified your earnest participation in the illicit acts she had finally succumbed to. God, she couldn’t decide whether she should stop, or whether she was mad at herself for not having done this earlier.

Yoonji decides it’s definitely the latter as you pussy clenches around her fingers, and a small moan presses its way through your lips.

Yoonji had never been the one to play favorites. She almost always didn’t have preferences among her students. Usually in her courses everyone was so quiet. But you and Juahn had been so vocal. Juahn had frustrated her, putting his nose in business he didn’t belong in, trying to weasel his way into a good grade despite the fact that it took almost nothing to get a passing grade in the course--Yoonji hardly cared, good grades reflected kindly on herself. But you? You seemed to go to bat against the stubborn boy for no reason other than to protect Yoonji’s honor.

It was absolutely unnecessary, but still made Yoonji smile to herself every time. She didn’t need anyone’s help, but she liked the way you blushed when she called on you. And even more so she was charmed by the fact that you always had something to say, even when you didn’t volunteer for fear of seeming like the teacher’s pet.

But as Yoonji curled her fingers inside of you, wrenching a moan from your plump lips, she couldn’t help but admire the way this particular teacher’s pet seemed so eager for her good graces.

“Professor,” you gasp with as much brain power you could muster. “Professor, I wanna make you feel good too!” yoonji laughs quietly. She isn’t surprised by your eagerness to please, in fact, she relishes in it.

“Oh yeah?” Yoonji says, withdrawing her fingers from your heat, drawing a slight whimper from you. “Then get on the floor baby, tongue out.”

You follow her instructions as quickly as you can, and Yoonji wastes no time in shuffling her dress up, just a bit, so she’ll be able to see your pretty eyes as she cums on your tongue.

You look desperate and hopelessly infatuated as Yoonji shimmies her underwear down her legs, and positions herself above you.

“Are you ready, sweetheart?” She says, watching you melt under her pet name.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been ready.” You reply, softly wiggling your tongue at her.

“Have you done this before?” Yoonji questions, tilting her head to the side.

You shake your head in denial, but the challenge in your eyes shows Yoonji that you couldn’t be more than ready to learn now.

Yoonji grasps the back of your head and pulls you into her pussy, sighing in relief as your tongue slides along her core. You’re sloppy and messy as you begin to eat her out, but for some reason Yoonji can’t help the shiver that runs along her spine at the unrefined way your tongue caresses her.

“You’re perfect, baby,” Yoonji sighs, beginning to rock her core against your face. “Can you put your tongue inside of me?” She asks, and you follow her instructions to the letter, just like you always do.

Yoonji rocks her hips against your face over and over again, allowing your tongue to pierce the deepest part of her. God, she should have been doing this all semester. Even professors need to release built up tension.

You’re moaning against her folds, as if there is truly no place you would rather be than lapping up the nectar between Yoonji’s thighs, and the thought makes Yoonji gush even more. There’s something so hot about the way you gasp and pant against her pussy, as if there was nowhere else you could imagine being. As if you were all Yoonji’s, ripe for the taking.

Yoonji is getting close, but as much as she’d love to make you drink her cum, she’s absolutely desperate to see you come apart beneath her.

“Stop.” She orders, and you do, just like a good little slut, looking up at her with those big doe eyes, questioning her.

“Lay on the floor.” Yoonji demands, and while you seem confused, you follow her directions regardless.

Yoonji positions herself above you, her legs slotted between your own in order to align your sexes. Then she presses herself down into you, eliciting a sigh from your reddened mouth. It elapses into a groan as Yoonji starts rocking against you. Dragging her pussy against yours just right, so your clits bump against one another over and over again. The two of you are blinded by lust, neither of you can think of anything but the way you feel against one another. The messy wetness dripping down your thighs and onto the classroom floor beneath you.

You both know you ought to feel guilty for the travesty you are committing. But it’s impossible as you feel the sparks run up your spine repeatedly. God, why hadn’t you both done this sooner?

Both of you can feel the pressure building. Mounting as it takes over each of your entire bodies.

Yoonji won’t let you get off that easy though, and so she presses her hand over your throat, cutting off your air supply and you twitch and shake beneath her.

“Are you gonna cum, my pretty baby?” Yoonji asks you, rocking her hips faster and faster, almost impossibly fast, against your own. “Are you gonna make your professor’s pussy all wet and dirty? Little slut.” She smirks as your eyes seem to roll back in your head, waves of pleasure washing over you one after the other, over and over, until Yoonji releases your throat to hunch over you, her own orgasm rushing in fiercely, allowing your juices to mix and pulse together into one sinful, noticeable puddle on the floor beneath you.

You’re both panting hard, huddled together, drenched in sweat and cum, when Yoonji takes your face in her hands and kisses you.

It’s a light kiss, so different from the aggressive way she just fucked you. And as you pant together, you feel the older woman’s body mold into your own.

“You’ve always been my favorite student you know.” Yoonji whispers to you. “You don’t have to compete with anyone. It’s always been you.”

You sigh and kiss her again.

“I love you, professor.” You sigh, not realizing what you’re saying.

She laughs quietly.

“Maybe we can go to dinner together, sometime after finals.” Yoonji mutters, and you nod. “I mean, finals are only two weeks away. You can last that long without me making you cum, can’t you?”

You nod shakily. “I can at least try, professor.”

“Alright my darling,” Yoonji responds. “Alright.”

*******

A/N: Again, I am soooo sorry. this is just weird pent up attraction i have to this one professor coming out all over the page ughhiuhjbfsldf bdbfkjedsfncjksdmfn. Tag yourself, I’m the essay title being copy and pasted from an actual essay i turned in to this woman because i was so helplessly into her. FUCK

#bts #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts fluff #min yoonji #min yoongi #yoonji #yoongi #suga #min yoongi fanfiction #min yoonji fanfiction #smut #fluff #dirty talk #choking #drunk fic #help me

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a-flickering-soul · 3 years

Note

do kylux for the ask meme 😳 you + me = mental illness

i love you so much for sending this in this truly is the mortifying ordeal of being known

putting this under a readmore because it is LITCHERALLY 1.2k words because i am literally clawing at the walls of my enclosure about these two

ANYWAYS go ahead and send me a character and i’ll give you some headcanons bc im having fun doing these!!!

Kylo Ren

Sexuality Headcanon: ambiguously queer. Don’t make me think about him having sex he makes me so angry

Gender Headcanon: he Must be a cis man. He has so much mommy issues. He is such an incel. He is so full of toxic masculinity. He must be a cis man.

A ship I have with said character: Kylux. Every single angle you take this ship from it’s funny and good. Canon—they hate each other and want each other dead. AU—they still hate each other but they’re (probably) less fascist and genocidal. It’s just so funny. They are so obsessed with each other. They gaslight each other into love confessions. It’s unreal. I’ve been thinking about Kylux for the past month and I feel like an entire geological age has passed. You can tell I’m a Kylux shipper and a R*ylo anti because I almost exclusively refer to him as Ren instead of Kylo. The gay angel went to superhell for Kylux to go canon in Lego Star Wars (twice) and a kids’ comic book. God mocks me to my face.

A BROTP I have with said character: This got literally shot to shit but post-TFA when a bunch of people headcanoned Rey as Luke’s kid and she and Ren were cousins and he reluctantly babysat her because he was literally ten years older than her (hhhhh.) and they had this weird mildly-contentious relationship as adults where they grudgingly acknowledge they are both the most powerful Force users in the galaxy and are the only ones who mutually understand the legacy they bear and care about each other but also cannot be in the same room together and hold a civil conversation for more than five minutes before resorting to uncomfortable silence. Like when you’re at a family reunion and you’re automatically shunted with the only other kid around your age so you have to make conversation but you are just so fundamentally different there’s nothing to talk about. Unreal.

A NOTP I have with said character: Hhh. R*ylo. I’m one of those evil lesbians who hate that ship viciously and one of my dreams is to be one of the mean antis that that bully a shipper in a story that’s clearly exaggerated or made up and then get cancelled for having good taste.

A random headcanon: I think he and Phasma used to spar a lot. I keep thinking about the five years he spent on the Finalizer pre-canon and I can’t reasonably justify the Knights of Ren hanging out with him for the entire time on a literal military ship and I like the idea of them being the only people that are reasonably on par physically (I also like how Phasma is an inch taller than him because....whew).

General Opinion over said character: God. He drives me wild. I have a lot of thoughts about him and how good he was in TFA and the pre-canon comics/novels as a really fucking good example of a morally-conflicted villain (especially the comics where it made it really clear that he was very much manipulated and gaslit since like…ten years old). Like! The way he could flip at will from drawing strength from both the light AND dark side of the Force is just!! So cool! The way his strength literally derives from moral conflict is just really interesting to me but….idk the way post-TFA he was thrown into a redemption (Rendemption) arc that hinged on Rey being a literal genuine fascist sympathizer made me just really disappointed. He had a lot of amazing potential to be either a really interesting semi-redeemed Byronic antihero OR a full on unhinged animalistic power-mad villain that Rey has to mercy-kill like a rabid dog. And then. Well. Yeah. I like him a lot in very specific contexts and flat out hate him in most others.

Armitage Hux

Sexuality Headcanon: gay! He is gay! I have an entire list of reasons why he’s gay and it grows daily! Without a doubt a homosexual! Gay and repressed!

Gender Headcanon: Also a cis guy even though I still do have a lot of half-formed thoughts about gender in the First Order/post-collapse of the Empire society.

A ship I have with said character: Kylux! Again! I’m obsessed with how obsessed Hux is with Ren. He hates him so much it’s unreal. I keep reading the novelizations and thinking so fucking hard about how consumed Hux is with hatred for this one man. He’s so repressed. He’s so damaged. It’s unreal. The brainworms in my head have metamorphosed into moths and they’re flapping their wings so hard they’re disintegrating my grey matter. I think near-daily about how he personally went down to retrieve Ren from the collapse of Starkiller Base and yet would not touch him to drag him to shelter in the Hux graphic novel. Would you take off your glove to check his pulse or would you attempt to feel it through the leather and touch something’s dead skin rather than his living warmth. I’m so deeply unwell.

A BROTP I have with said character: Him and Phasma!!! The way they are on first-name terms with each other….the way one of the few times in the graphic novels you see him smile is when Phasma comes back onto the base…..the way they plotted to kill Brendol together….truly evil mlm/wlw solidarity you simply love to see it

A NOTP I have with said character: Oof I see a lil bit of shipping him with Resistance members (I think I’ve seen him with Rose and also Poe??) and I know TROS made the decision to have him defect from the First Order (out of. again. his obsessive hatred with another man. writing choices.) but it makes me INSANELY uncomfortable seeing people of color being shipped with a literal fascist parody of British colonialism and imperialism lmao like….just ship Kylux bro they’re mutually bad people AND a power couple

A random headcanon: Frankly at this point I joke so much about how much like a sick Victorian orphan he looks like that I could write an entire fake medical file for him but I’ll spare you all and simply say that I am incredibly partial to the headcanon that Hux is a freak that bites string cheese instead of peeling it like a normal person. Also…the implications that he Personally placed the tracker in Ren’s belt rather than someone else, so that he alone could keep tabs on him…..I’m unwell. Enough.

General Opinion over said character: If Ren is a character I love to hate, Hux is a character I hate that I love. I just. I can’t stop thinking about this gay little war criminal. It truly, genuinely baffles the mind how much information there is about him. It triggers that same little part of my brain that goes wild over like. ARGs and stuff. There’s just so much lore. With every new piece of canon or semi-canon information I learn about him I can feel my grip on sanity slipping. He owns a black robe. He has a personal hitman in the First Order ranks to poison people he doesn’t like. He drinks tea. He’s a bastard son. He’s great with kids. He was in charge of a squad of feral orphan child soldiers at five years old. I just. I just don’t get it. I’m enamored with him. His compulsive attention to grooming. His hubris. His ambition. How literally unhinged he is (the “rabid cur” line genuinely lives in my head rent free). The way he systemically killed every single person who saw him weak and abused as a child. There’s just so much to talk about with him. He’s so evil. He’s so fucked up. I love him so deeply. He is such a horrible person and he is so fun to make fun of and he is so fun to think about. God wants there to be a bullet in my head so badly.

#im so unwell this is SO LONG #sam you did NOT sign up for this king im so so fucking sorry #star wars #huxposting #answered #i literally love you for sending this in im so sorry this is incoherent im in hell #tsukkimutual #kylux

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litniche · 3 years

Text

Love Will Find a Way

Chapter 3 on ao3

Entire fic

Personally, fics have gotten me through some holidays, so what better day to post? Love to you all. Thank you for reading!

CHAPTER 3

Dani found airports fascinating. The bustle of people coming and going from all over the world was intoxicating. As she waited for Jamie’s flight to arrive at the Charles de Gaulle airport in Paris, she imagined herself in various scenarios: in one she was going to New York on a business trip; in another, she was off to Bali for a scuba diving adventure. Next, she made up stories about the people she saw waiting for their flights. The family at gate A8 might be heading to visit a grandmother. The young man standing a few paces from her with roses at the ready was waiting for his fiancée, just like her.

All imaginings came to a halt when she saw a telltale bomber jacket and brown curls, barely visible in a crowd. For a moment, her breathing stopped and her stomach sunk. Her feet started to move before her mind had made itself up to do so.

“Jamie!” Dani called. She let her backpack fall to the airport floor. As if she was in one of those old timey romantic movies, she found herself rushing forward to envelop her lover in her arms and Jamie did the same. They crashed together, both grinning and laughing. She clutched Jamie and felt like she could finally breathe in relief.

“You’re here,” Dani said in an awestruck whisper. As she wove her arms around Jamie’s waist, her hands wandered as if determined to feel as much as decently possible.

“So are you,” Jamie said. She squeezed Dani harder, pulling her impossibly closer. “Oh, Poppins, I’ve missed this. I’ve missed you so badly. What have you done to me?”

Dani nuzzled her way into Jamie’s neck. “Only what you’ve done to me.”

“Why did we think it was a good idea for me to set up the shop in Vermont while you finished your contract with the Wingraves?”

“It’s escaping me just now.”

Jamie hummed, kissing her shoulder, and Dani let herself inhale her soft scent. She smelled like a greenhouse--damp soil and blossoms and life. They rocked back and forth for a moment, relishing in feeling their bodies pressed together. They were so lucky, Dani thought, that they lived in an age when they could see each other every day even with thousands of miles between them. But that didn’t replace this. That didn’t replace the way Jamie’s hair was softer than anything Dani had ever felt. And, in person, her voice had a timber to it that was hollowed by her laptop’s paltry excuse for speakers.

“Okay,” Jamie said at last. “I don’t want to, but we might want to make our way for the train now. I have a suspicion that nuns don’t like you to be late.”

With a sigh, Dani took a step back, but not before stealing an all-too-brief kiss that promised far more. “Okay. Let’s do this.” She held out her hand and couldn’t help but dopily grin at Jamie’s glazed-over expression.

***

“Welcome to this two-day intensive course which will instruct you on how to start a Catholic household together,” the mother superior began.

Luckily, Jamie had taken French in high school and had studied more of it with Owen back when she had planned to move with him and Hannah to Paris. Doubly lucky, Dani had taken a semester of college abroad in Caen and had remained as an au pair for a year, learning the language and gaining the experience that eventually landed her the position she currently held with the Wingraves. They whispered bits of translation back and forth to each other as needed.

“You must use the tools we will provide to not only start your journey as a family, but to begin what will be one of God’s most generous gifts: your spiritual journey through the holy sacrament of matrimony,” the mother superior continued.

Jamie and Dani exchanged quiet glances. Neither of them were particularly religious, though they’d both been brought up in church-going communities. Still, neither of them were Catholic, so this weekend felt a bit like a punishment for it.

They were on the outskirts of a small town located to the southeast of Paris. The air was fragranced with wild thyme and cultivated rose bushes. However, the weekend did not include gallivanting in the fields. Instead, they found themselves attending classes on family values and conjugal duties. As the foreign couple, not to mention the queer couple, they were the center of attention--especially when questions about sex arose. Everyone assumed, despite Dani and Jamie’s assurances that they knew very little about heterosexual relations, that they knew more about it than the nuns.

“So, where does sperm go? After, you know…?” a young woman whispered to Dani. The au pair wanted to claw her way toward the window and take her chances at falling out of it.

Jamie smiled gently. “It swims, Sophie. It goes up through your cervix. Sometimes it finds an egg.”

“What if it doesn’t?” the woman said with alarm.

“No idea there, love. I assume they just kind of die off.”

Dani pondered for a moment how her lesbian lover was the one to teach this young woman about the basics of heterosexual intercourse.

On the second day, before they could leave, one of the sisters asked them to meet in a study room. She sat opposite to them behind a desk, making Dani shift. She hadn’t been on this side of the teacher’s desk in a while.

“Your union, I’m afraid, will not be attended by the Holy Spirit,” the sister began.

Dani’s expression became blank. She remained silent as she waited for the other shoe to drop. Was this the part where the nun told them they were sinners for loving each other?

Jamie simply asked, “Why?”

“You are not Catholic. Anyone can see that you are in love. However, two people in love can get married at the beach, in their yard, or a courthouse. What makes a marriage in a Catholic Church special is the belief that God has brought you together by His providence for His purposes. We wonder, therefore, if you have the courage to become Catholic before the sacrament, so that the Holy Spirit will be in attendance.” She smiled fondly at them, awaiting their answer.

Relieved, Dani smiled. This wasn’t condemnation, but an attempt at conversion. “Thank you, Sister. We will consider it.”

“I’m not sure we have the money to feed the Holy Spirit at the reception anyway,” Jamie mumbled under her breath.

Dani swatted her under the table, thankful the nun hadn’t heard.

“It has been our pleasure. God willing, we will meet again.”

They stood, and Jamie and Dani each held an outstretched hand that the nun offered. She squeezed their hands and brought them together in hers as she wished them every happiness. In turn, they thanked her.

Outside, allowed to finally have a moment alone as they awaited their taxi, they walked down one of the meditative paths that surrounded the nunnery. “That wasn’t so bad,” Dani said.

“Says you,” Jamie scoffed. “You’re not the one that had to bunk with Sister Mary Thomas. The woman snores louder than a lawn mower.”

Dani snorted, she laughed so hard. “You poor thing,” she said, holding Jamie’s hand. It was all the affection they dared to show just yet. “Well, I hope you feel rested enough, because I have plans for you this evening,” she revealed, arching a daring brow.

“That so?” Jamie said, pretending to be casual. “What sort of plans?”

“I don’t want to scare any nuns that might overhear, Jamie. You’ll have to wait and see,” Dani teased.

“Flirt,” Jamie said and nudged Dani with her shoulder.

Notes:

I think we all know what's coming next. ;) Reblogs super appreciated!

#thobm #dani x jamie #bly manor #the haunting of bly manor #damie #dani clayton #jamie x dani #damie kiss #jamie thobm #jamie clayton #thobm fic #fanfic #fanfiction #thobm fanfic #wlw #lesbian #lesbians #lgbtq #f/f

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funkyfreshramblings · 3 years

Text

A Story Twenty Years in the Making

CW: Swearing, sex, transphobia (Look, I'm not proud of who I was).

Shortly after I was born, a cousin of mine was as well. My mother took me to a store where she looked to buy a dress for her new niece to celebrate her birth. A woman stopped and looked at my mother, baby Devon in the stroller, dress in her hand, and curiously spoke up.

"Excuse me miss, but you know that you have a boy, right?" The woman shopping, presumably for her own daughter, had said to my mother.

"Of course I know I have a son. What about it?" My mother said in response.

"Well, that's a dress you're holding. Why would you be buying that for your son?" The woman puzzled.

My mother, quick as a whip and smarter than most people I know today, responded without a second thought.

"I'm letting him experiment with his sexuality."

---

At twelve (12) years old, I became aware of this really weird website. You see, everyone was talking about it, a schoolyard rumour we didn't dare to talk about in front of the teachers. The mythical status of this website was nothing to scoff at, students would huddle around and talk about their findings. It was like an ARG, a new puzzle added every day. The school was rife with these conversations, and everyone was hooked.

I'm of course talking about Pornhub.

Obligatory "don't go on Pornhub unless you're the legal viewing age in your country" aside (even though I'm aware those warnings stop nobody), I too became a curious mind. One day, when my parents had slipped out of the house and I was alone, I pulled it up on my computer upstairs. What I say fascinated me, women and men having sex.

Sex. Woah. Penises, vaginas, anuses. There was everything on this website. Everything. Including this one tab which I didn't dare click.

This one category had what appears to be two men on it. I assumed it was two men, after all neither of them had pronounced breasts like all the women had. And the title of the category? Gay. 'What the fuck does that mean?' twelve-year-old (12) me thought. I ignored it, thought it was weird, and continued on.

In the back of my mind, I was curious. A few weeks after watching straight porn and being mostly repulsed by how awful the women screamed in those videos, I tried it. I clicked on the category tab and was immediately hit with my first exposure to the gay community.

'Twink? Bear? Fisting? Now that's nasty.' I was curiously disgusted but clicked on anyways. "Twinks" looked cute, so I clicked there. Wait, cute? Did I really think these guys were cute? Like I thought my girlfriend was cute?

The video was, simply put, less aggressive than straight porn. Holy shit was straight porn aggressive. It terrified me how much those women screamed like the men were killing them by inserting their penises too far into their bodies. But gay porn looked softer. It was sweeter, with more love. After all, sex is about love, right? Forgive my younger self, you see. He clearly did not understand that nothing in porn is about love. But hey, when working with a half deck, you have to make the cards work.

So I watched gay porn over straight porn. That doesn't mean I'm gay! But wait, if gay porn is between two men, what is porn between a woman and a man. What's porn between two women? Never mind, I'm not that curious about two women together.

A quick Google search sent me down the most soul-searching adventure I'd ever partake in. At least, up until this point.

I soon learned what gay meant, what straight meant, what lesbian meant. You mean boys liking other boys was normal? Girls can like other girls? Wait, you can like boys and girls?

Oh, wait, you can also not be sexually attracted to anyone.

Asexual was a term I first read those years ago, and I soon thought that it described me. See, up until this point, women never interested me sexually. I was twelve (12). Sex really never crossed my mind, even when it was supposed to. But I was watching porn, I thought!

Doesn't matter. I didn't want to be part of those acts. That's what made me ace, I thought.

My lord was I wrong. (Not about ace people, but about my identity. This is where things get juicy. And chuddy.)

---

Okay, so cut to two years later. I'm fourteen (14), in grade ten (10) during Art class. One of my friends sat beside me, my ex across from me, and I hated Art class. Why'd I taken this god-awful course again? Regardless, as I sat there and thought, I thought about my bullying up until high school.

I filled out as a kid. I mean that literally, I grew tall and wide really quickly. No one fucked with me when I was in high school. No one wanted to, and I faded to the background.

But in elementary school, I was the new kid. Backing up to 2009, eight-year-old (8) Devon moved. I would celebrate my ninth (9th) birthday in a class where no one knew me or no one cared. Well, that's not true. One kid cared. Bless that kid. Regardless, 9-year-old (9) me had a target on his back. A big one, and it quickly meant I was being bullied.

My mother is terrifying. I use bold there because I don't think italics can describe just how terrifying mama-bear is when she's angry. After finding out that I was being bullied, she pulled into the school and chewed out the principal. And the parents. And the kids. Hell hath no fury like a mother who went through the shit mine did. So quickly the bullying died down.

Stopped? No, but quieted. My new friends surrounded me in a wonderful bubble of love, but that didn't mean they also didn't pick on me. The most common insult? Gay.

Gay? Like, porn gay? No no no, I said. I'm not gay.

Cut back to 14-year-old (14) me, thinking throughout Art class. I swear Ms. Taylor had it out for me. Oh, right, gay.

'Holy shit.' I thought.

'Wait. They're right, I'm gay. I like men. Holy shit I really like men. Men are hot, and I want to be with one so bad. But I live in this crap town of conservatives (my parents taught me right, conservatives are some of the shittiest people on the planet after all).'

Okay, so I'm gay. I figured that out at the very least! Now I have to tell people.

Oh. Fuck. I have to tell people.

Coming out. Hell, as I like to call it. First to my friends. My friends would understand, after all, I had a pansexual friend. What the fuck does pansexual mean? Never mind that Devon, focus on your own damn self for a second.

Oh. My. God. I have to tell people.

I pulled up my big boy pants and blurted out in the middle of class...

Nothing. What did you expect?

I waited 'till the next morning. That made sense.

---

"Hi, Sierrah!" I said to my colourful friend. Her hair was always a different colour every month and still is. I wish I had half the hair strength she must have.

"Hey, Devon!" She said, blue backpack on her back, meeting up with me to walk to school in the morning.

"I have something to tell you. I'm gay." She looked at me and squealed before wrapping me in a big hug.

"I'm so proud of you!" Okay, one down. A lot more to go.

My best friend in high school used to be someone who I absolutely despised. We bonded over our shared dislike of our shared ex. We became really close. Telling him was pretty easy. Okay, two down.

Remember that girl I sat beside during Art? Not my ex, the one I bonded with my best friend over disliking, I meant the girl sitting beside me. Well, let me tell you.

No one can give me a reception nearly half as good as what she did when I told her.

"Sara, I'm gay," I said. Less than five (5) seconds later, my face was buried in the tits of Sara. That was... fun. Not sexual in the slightest, it was fun. She was warm, and she loved me. I could tell that as a friend, Sara would become the most important person in my life. Thank you, Sara. Should you ever read this.

I hope someone reads this.

Anyone?

Moving on, I eventually told all my friends that day. None of them gave a shit! Cool!

My parents.

Oh no. My parents were next.

I'm skipping that part, it's no longer relevant.

Sorry. (Not sorry in the slightest.)

---

So I graduated the gay kid of 2018. Yay! Seventeen-year-old (17) me made it to grad!

But before I did, I need to preface this part of the story. I was, unfortunately, a fan of Soygon of Asskad. And Blairina Weiss.

Shame. Shame. Shame. Not a day goes by where I'm not sorry for my actions during this period of my life. I am so profusely sorry for the racism and transphobia I perpetuated during this period of my life. I was even homophobic. God damn it, Devon, what the fuck are you doing?

I am now a proud socialist. University helped. So did Vaush, and BadBunny (who's chat might be reading this. Henlo Nicole! Henlo chat!).

Scream at me about Vaush later.

Okay, where was I? Right, grad. University applications.

I made it into the University of Toronto Mississauga. Canada's best university. One of the best universities in the world. Holy shit, I should be more proud of myself for that. I am proud. I made it there, and as I write this, I'm on my last year.

Here's to me becoming a med student soon, I hope!

So school happened. I went to school as a shy gay kid with undiagnosed anxiety problems. That wouldn't last, and soon my anxiety was written in the prescriptions I was handed over the counter for Lexapro. This is where I met my first friend from university.

He will remain unnamed for legal reasons.

He introduced me to one of the most beautiful men I've met to this date.

S. (Name redacted for reasons you need not know. Not legal reasons. Personal ones. Please respect this decision.)

Woah, was this guy just... hot. He was an athlete, no way he'd like me. He probably also sleeps around, and I don't want that.

Boy was I wrong. I soon found out that S was very much into me. I was someone's crush. Wow!

That eventually turned into a... relationship. You get the gist. Affirmation.

I was very, very gay. S helped me understand that I was very very gay.

Okay, so eighteen-year-old (18) Devon was gay. That was very clear.

So that's the end of the story, right?

No.

We just crossed the halfway point.

---

Cut to twenty (20). I am gay, an active chatter in BadBunny's (Twitch streamer, not singer) discord, and really really confused.

See, progressive streamers like BadBunny typically have features to add yourself to a role on Discord that would tell everyone your pronouns when they clicked on your profile. This is a really good way to affirm pronouns of everyone, so I'm down.

Well, I do have one problem. Any/all isn't listed here. Wait.

Wait...

Any? All?

Why do I feel like this?

I'm cis. Let me make that clear. I am cisgendered. I identify as a man, I was born a man, and I think I will always be a man. I think.

But I know pronouns don't necessarily tell you someone's gender. They is a really popular pronoun for all sorts of non-binary identities, all of which are different from each other. So pronouns do not equal gender.

Can I really use they/them, she/her, he/him, fae/faer, fawn/fawn, etc/etc. all while being cis? I think so, let's try it! I don't know how to describe my gender, all I know is I'm apathetic to my pronouns.

Cut to a TikTok video. I learned my fucking gender identity from a TikTok video. This is why representation is important.

"Gender Apathy" we're the words coming from this person's mouth. She? He? Them? Didn't matter, they didn't care. I didn't care.

We didn't care.

Holy fuck.

---

Google has been a really important resource for me as an academic student. Wikipedia articles affirm my suspicions before I move onto Google Scholar to look up articles.

I'm fucking kidding.

Fuck Google Scholar.

But Google did introduce me to the world of fandom wikis.

Is gender wiki a thing? LGBTQ+ wiki?

As it turns out, it is.

Gender Apathy is an article there, as well as many many other identities. If you're question, do some keyword searches. You'll never know what you find.

Anyways, Gender Apathy. Cisapathetic, which I kind of interpret as someone who identifies as cisgender but doesn't really care? I guess? This is all still confusing, but whatever. Cisapathetic.

I quickly shared this with all my friends. I found something new out!

But we aren't done yet.

---

Cut to a little while later. It's Pride month, 2021. This month, if you happen to read this as soon as it goes up! Someone on TikTok is making Pride moths.

Fucking TikTok.

Moths were, at one point, a really popular meme online. Lämp. Gen Z humour will be the end of us all.

So naturally, people found a love for moths. Great, that's lead us to this point. I notice during these videos that these moths are pretty. I want one, or rather, two.

I want the modern Pride moth. The trans flag and a black and brown stripe were included on this modern Pride flag to signal that BIPOC are central to Pride, and need to be celebrated and that our trans friends need our help. Need our platform. Need our rights too.

And I wanted the Gender Apathetic moth. After all, it was something new I discovered! Well, I noticed something in the comments while I was requesting a Gender Apathetic moth from this creator (they were open to suggestions, so please don't heckle me about it). One commenter said the words "are you doing a Neptunic/Uranic/Saturnic moth as well?" What the hell are those?

To the LGBTA wiki!

Neptunic is described as a sexuality "attracted to women, feminine non-binary people and neutral non-binary people."

Saturnic is described as a sexuality "attracted to androgynous aligned non-binary people."

Uranic is the one I'm really curious about then. I'm attracted to men, after all. Uranic is described as a sexuality "attracted to men, masculine non-binary people and neutral non-binary people."

Woah.

So let me back up a little bit.

When I had access to Twitter (they suspended me for defending my sexuality from someone who was saying gay men all have AIDS, so thanks Twitter) I once made a thread talking about how I didn't feel comfortable with calling myself gay.

"But Devon," I hear you say, "the whole first half of this story was dedicated to you realizing you were gay! How can you say that after wasting so much of our fucken' time?"

Give me a minute, dear reader. Let me explain what I said in this thread.

As I type this out, I recognize the transphobia I had against trans-men even while typing out that thread. I want to say, right here, right now, that my sexuality is trans-inclusive. Men with vaginas are still men. I am still very much attracted to men with vaginas. But this thread still falls on transphobic remarks. Once again, I profusely apologize for my past. I am currently working towards being a better person to my trans friends, both online and offline. I am doing my best to be better. I love you all, and I thank you for taking the time out of your day to read this.

Oh, and U of T, if you're reading this, before you even think about kicking me out for admitting my previous bigotry, I urge you to think about your staff first. Jordan Peterson still has a job and makes the campus trans-exclusive as he continues to teach. Catch yourself before you come for me, a student doing his best to be better.

Okay, so back to the Twitter thread.

I essentially said something along the lines of this:

I really struggle with calling myself gay when in reality, I'm only attracted to people with penises, and who lack vaginas and breasts. I would have sex with non-binary people who have penises. So am I really just "gay?"

But in a lot more words. Before I continue, I want to take the time to explain how this comment is transphobic, and why I am sorry and why I want to explain that I no longer feel this way. Okay? So, here's the short of it:

I go by the term gay, but by saying I'm explicitly only attracted to people with penises while liking men, I was indirectly making the point that trans-men are not men if they too do not have penises.

This is not true. Trans men are men, and I have come to realize my attraction for trans men as well, despite genitalia. My sexuality encompasses men of all kinds, and non-binary people who are masculine aligned or neutrally aligned. Once again, I can only apologize and do better.

I am sorry for my previous transphobia. I hope I can make it better by acknowledging it and doing my best to avoid these implications ever again.

Okay, now that we have all of that out of the way, let's talk Uranic again.

Uranic really does describe me. I feel it in every bone of my body, that I really do find myself sexually attracted to even non-binary people.

So, gay is out, uranic is in.

Where does that leave me today?

---

When I started this post, I explained how I was a cisgendered gay man who was a liberal who almost fell down the alt-right pipeline. But as I type this post, not only has my identity evolved, but so has my political ideology. I am a cisapathetic, uranic man who still uses the term gay in casual conversation because it's easier even though it doesn't really describe me, socialist.

BadBunny/Nicole, chat, if you're reading this, thank you. You helped me a ton in discovering socialism and to reject ideas of capitalism that only serve to continue the systematic racism against black people, the systematic transphobia that kills trans people, and even the systematic homophobia I face as a "gay" man.

Wow, that was long. Really long. If you made it this far, give yourself a pat on the back. You just read the life history of a twenty-year-old (20) and how he came to understand his identity.

I love you all.

Signed,

Devon.

FunkyFreshHomo on Discord.

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sardonicnihilism · 3 years

Text

A Biography of the Woman Who Never Was

Part 3 The Young Adult

Chapter 32

Shannon looked over her list of damnable tomes. *The Liba Lnteus*, *The Beale Ciphers*, *The Voynich Manuscript*, *Magic of Abramelin the Image*, *The Codex Gigas*, *The Book of Soyga*, *The Rohonc Codex*, *The Great Omar Book*, *The Ripley Scroll Book*; each one of these horrid abominations was said to bring death and madness to all those who sought them out. These were grimoires of the most blasphemous and dangerous depths. Yet, none of these were what she was looking for.

Shannon lifted her head, staring off into space, tapping her pencil off the library table she was seated at. She was trying to clear her mind, think of new avenues to approach. The continuing elusivness of the book made her feel uneasy. Certainly there had to be some mention of it somewhere.

She looked over to her right and saw a typical, pink eraser. She stared at it for a few moments and opened up her left hand. The eraser wiggled a bit, and then jumped into her hand. Shannon smiled as she ran it between her fingers.

She then noticed a strand of her hair, resting on the book she had been reading. She put her hand about one foot over top of it. The hair began to move like a snake. It reared up, standing straighter and straighter, until it left the page and floated in the air.

Shannon moved her hand to and fro, the hair following suit. Her hand and the hair danced in the air. She stood up and began to actually dance - swaying, gliding, bending, and reaching. The hair began to glow and catch on fire. It elongated and started to spin around her. The two dance partners floated up into the sky.

They were suddenly no longer in the library. She doubted if they were even still on Earth. It was night here. They were in a forest with trees and vegetation that had no root in Terran soil with the cries of animals that had never trod the world of man.

Shannon's clothes had now been burned away, but she didn't care. All there was, was the dance. The string of fire encircled her even more closely. Eventually it touched her and she burst into flame, but she felt not one ounce of pain. Indeed she was in a state of euphoric rapture.

She and the flame were now one. She flew across the night sky, leaving streaks of light behind her, creating complex, geometric patterns. In her mind she heard a young boy ask what was that; to which the voice of an old woman responded, "That is the Sky Dancer of Chaos and Eternal Night". She then exploded across the sky. Shannon was then back in the library; same position, mindlessly drumming away.

Shannon took her glasses off, laid them on the book, and slouched back into her chair. She was unnerved at her apparent day dream. She was even more upset at her lack of progress.

"Hey stranger," Sam's voice called out.

Shannon looked over in the direction it had come. "Hey. What are you doing here?" She was legitimately curious. She had come to Chambersburg Public Library because her college library had failed to yield any results in her search, but it was more than sufficient for the tasks of any college assignment.

"Looking for you. I haven't seen on campus for a while. I called to see if you were ok, and your mum said you were here. I found a ride in and decided to see if you were ok."

"I am. Just - looking."

Sam pulled out the chair next to her and sat down. "That bloody book again?" he asked both concerned and annoyed.

"I still hear things, see things, sometimes even feel them. Prayers and church haven't worked. Maybe if I find something, anything, it'll help."

Sam put his arm around her shoulders. It was striking how large and muscular she was. She felt more of stone than flesh. Yet her face was scared, sad, and tired.

"Listen," he said softly, "you said yourself, they gave you a strange liquid to drink, yeah? I'm guessing that it was some sort of hallucinogenic and it's messing with brain up there," he gently tapped on the side of her head which made her smile. "Instead of looking for some book which may not even be real; maybe you should go to the doctor's instead?"

Shannon leaned over and put her head on his shoulder. "And say what? I might have had some bad acid? Besides, everyone had masks on. I have no idea who all was there. Hell, my doctor could have been one of them for all I know. Shit, you could be one," she turned her head and looked him in the eyes.

"Nah, ain't me mate. I don't believe in any of that mumbo-jumbo. Strict atheist here. Of course, you could think I'm just lying to you. Not like I can prove my innocence."

"Honestly, at this point, I really don't give a shit if you're legitimate or a spy. You're the best friend I've ever had. So if this is a performance, all I ask is that you keep it up."

"Will do," Sam answered back cheerfully.

Shannon looked at her list again. She tore the paper from the notebook and crumpled it up. Real or not, she was done searching.

Suddenly something came to her, something Jen had said. She had called Lovecraft a seer. She also said that his works were based on the coven's text. Finally her last thought sprung up in her mind again, *real or not*.

She ran up to the librarians desk and asked to sign into a computer. The librarian told her what number to go to, and she ran over and started typing.

Sam was extremely confused and worried. He ran over to her and asked, "What are you doing?"

"Checking out a thought," she said, super focused on the screen.

"Alright, and how's that?"

"I found this new website called Amazon. They're an online bookstore. Fairly large selection too," she said excitedly. "Hopefully they don't try to start selling other things as well and just stick to books."

As soon as the page loaded, she typed "Lovecraftian horror" in the search bar. Once the search was done, she began to scroll through the selections. Her brow furrowed with frustration, not seeing what she had hoped for. Then a look of absolute joy came across her face as she said, "There!" Shannon pointed to a listing and Sam started to read it aloud.

"*Behind the Bleeding Veil* by Shawn Baxter, 1934. *Behind the Bleeding Veil* is the first book in the Goddess Saga. This book of Lovecraft inspired horror revolves around a sheltered young girl, her mysterious past, and her bizarre college roommate. Originally banned due to its graphic depiction of lesbian sex and gore, it was later reprinted in 1967. Includes the standard cosmic horror troupes such as cults, horrifying, unknowable gods, and cursed books ( *The Book of Forgotten Nightmares *)." Sam stopped and looked at Shannon who was smiling ear to ear.

"I don't get it," he said confused.

"It was all made up. Whoever started that coven, must have read this book and thought it was real. Just like the publishing companies made a *Necronomicon*, they must have made a version of *Nightmares*. It's nothing more than a story someone took seriously." Relief washed over Shannon in tidal waves, washing her clean.

"Pretty much how all religions get started." Sam added jovially.

"Unfortunately, that means you were right and I am having a prolonged, psychotic reaction to a hallucinogenic compound."

Sam turned to Shannon and asked, "Hospital?"

"Hospital," Shannon agreed.

As they were leaving, Shannon turned around and saw a massive black shadow, bubbling with white, distorted, grotesque faces. She raised her hand and the mass was blown away in an explosion of fire.

"I am the Sky Dancer of Chaos and Eternal Night," she whispered underneath her breath and walked out.

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

"Can we talk?" Shannon asked, in a low, shy, almost mournful voice.

Chris wiped the sweat from his brow and gave her a suspicious look. "I got some time between sets. Never was a fan of deadlifts anyway. So, what is it?"

Shannon handed him a piece of paper. "It's for your friend. It's the name of the toxin that was used and the drug that's used to treat it."

Chris took it and looked it over.

Shannon hung her head and looked at the floor as she continued to talk. "Given how long it's been, the damage might be permanent. The doctor said that I might have some continuing effects given it's been almost two years. Still, it should help him a little."

She then lifted her head and looked Chris straight in the eyes. "I'm so sorry. I should have listened. You tried to be a friend and I was a bitch. I hope you forgive me, but I don't expect it, and that's more than fair."

Chris handed the paper back to Shannon. "He committed suicide last year." He paused for a beat, then added, "But thank you anyways. I, I know you must have been going through some stuff, and I'm guessing still are. I understand. I might have reacted the same way if the roles were reversed. Understanding doesn't equal forgiveness though. And forgiveness doesn't mean things will go back to the way they were. It's been a while, both temporarily and emotionally."

"I know," Shannon said as she took the paper back.

Chris stuck out his hand. Shannon took it, shook it, turned around and walked away.

Shannon got to her car where Sam was waiting for her.

"Well, how'd it go," he asked sympathetically.

"About as well as I had any right for it to go," she answered back, putting her sunglasses on.

"You going to be ok?"

"Eventually," she said flatly, and got in her car.

Sam got in the passenger side. "You know, you've missed most of this semester. You got a lot of work to make. You think you can do it? Maybe you can take a leave of absence, all things considered?"

Shannon buckled up, turned the car on, and put it in drive. "I'm not going back," she simply said.

#dark #fiction #drama #sad #slice of life

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bewareofchris · 4 years

Text

Public Relations 25/??

R atm | Alec Hardy/Dr. Bill Masters | Broadchurch, Masters of Sex | Strong language, eventual sexual situations

“The fact that Alec Hardy was not currently, had not ever, and did not want to date the American sex research did not seem very important at all to the town of Broadchurch. They did what they had always done with a little bit of juicy gossip: they made a spectacle of it.”

AO3 Link | From this part on, the posts should line up with the chapters posted on AO3. This “part” is 25 here but it will be Chapter 9 on AO3.

Betty had a peculiar way of simply existing in spaces that she hadn’t been present in a moment ago. Bill had only just looked down at the growing stack of papers awaiting his attention for a single moment. Just barely long enough to lift up the first resume on the massive stack of possible assistants before he dropped it again and fell back into his chair in defeat.

“Hard day?” Betty asked as if she’d been there since he walked in. As if she hadn’t just materialized there with a tablet resting in the crook of her arm as she eyed him with some dismay.

He gasped, “Betty!” Because she surprised him. But he just glared hatefully at the pile of resumes because there was no defense for his desperate disinterest in going through them. “I assume you’re here on official business.”

“Sure am,” she assured him, “but, in this case, I was sent by my real boss. My wife.” She nodded her head in that way that assumed he understood. And then she cleared her throat to go ahead with, “well, she’s decided that we’re inviting you to Christmas dinner. I don’t know what’s happening with your family, or if you’ve got someplace else you’d rather be. But if your only options are eating some uninspired ham steaks and pre packaged mashed potatoes with a couple of lesbians or sitting alone in your apartment waiting for a text from your overseas lover boy, well--”

“I don’t have a lover boy.”

“You can always eat the ham at our house and wait on the texts. And sing carols with us. We might even make a stocking for you.”

Bill had not even gone through the pretense of purchasing a Christmas tree for his poorly furnished little apartment. He hadn’t turned on the radio in his car in weeks for fear of having to listen to the same merry songs over and over again. Christmas had only ever been something that wound up his guts into a fist of apprehension. Libby had been filled from top to toes with warm memories of long holiday seasons with her family. She hummed carols as she hung stockings and she laid against his side daydreaming about little fat babies to make her Christmad dreams come true.

But Bill’s memory of Christmas was an echo of every other day. His Mother made some attempt, and they assembled for dinner like waiting for a bomb to explode. Father was unforgiving and Mother was skittish. The only presents Bill remembered receiving were black eyes and bruises.

And yet, every year, he’d been sent out into the world with this expectation that he must know how to choose a gift worth giving. He’d suffered through all the Christmas movies, he’d listened to all the chatter. He’d received more than his share of gifts from thankful families and co-workers and friends. And still, he stood in department stores like an idiot, hoping to be saved by someone who took pity on men who barely had an idea of what they were doing there.

“Oh,” he said when the silence had dragged too long and Betty’s amusement had started softening to real concern. “I--uh, that’s very thoughtful of you, Betty.”

“So I’ll tell her to expect you.” Betty wasn’t asking him. She wasn’t even letting him work out how to turn her down. No, she was looking at him the way she had when she handed him a coat and a plane ticket. There would be no arguing with her. “We shouldn’t disappoint Helen right now. She needs to be in top condition for conceiving.”

“Right,” he agreed. “Right. We can’t upset Helen.” He cleared his throat, “should I bring anything? What should I bring--I… Libby usually handled these things.”

“Baby steps, boss. Bring some wine and yourself. We’ll take care of the rest.” Then she smiled at him (or tried her best) and turned with a swish of her skirt. She pulled the door closed behind her and lingered for just a breath before she walked away.

His primary consolation was that, while this had been a stupid idea, at least it had not been his stupid idea. A lucky follow up was how the aisle was filled with other similarly lost looking individuals staring at a selection of brightly colored baby toys without any clue which would be the best gift. At least Hardy didn’t have to look like an idiot by himself.

All of the boxes seemed to offer some guidance as to the appropriateness to the age of the child. Fred was a baby, but his exact age was unknown. He was old enough to stand up on his own but he wasn’t old enough to talk. (And it had been a very long time since Daisy had learned to talk. So long ago now that he didn’t remember when it happened.) Still, that wasn’t as big a problem as the fact that he couldn’t begin to guess what sort of color, character or type Fred would prefer.

(He seemed to very much enjoy knocking over block towers. And sucking his thumb.)

Hardy had never bought a gift for another person’s child, but he also felt as if some consideration was meant to be given for what Miller would prefer.

Surely, nobody had ever gone wrong with buying brightly colored, age-appropriate cars for a child? That’s what he’d been telling himself when he picked the box up. He just had been failing to believe it for the past five minutes or so. Because there were also dinosaurs that roared and trains and blocks made noises when you stacked them. And electronic toys that promised to teach letters and numbers.

An educational gift seemed ideal, unless it implied that he didn’t feel like Miller was educating her child appropriately.

Hardy was still holding the cars in one hand as he dug his phone out of his pocket. He stared at his sparse contact list as he tried to work out who he could call for help. Miller was an obvious choice but he didn’t want to make her uncomfortable. (They hadn’t, after all, discussed anything at all about exchanging gifts or the impending holiday.) It was too early to call Bill (and he was useless anyway). Daisy would be at school. He sighed at himself, and the toys, and his phone, and the world, but he still tapped on Tess’ name.

She answered on the third ring, sounding almost amused enough to cover her confusion. “Should I feel special?”

“How should I know?” Hardy answered, and he squeezed his eyes shut at the flutter of his heart beat getting light and flighty. He cleared his throat, “I was calling for advice about a kid’s present.”

“Ok,” Tess said, “whose kid?”

“A co-worker’s.”

“A lady co-worker?”

“Tess,” Hardy said. He opened his eyes and dropped the box he’d been holding back on the shelf. “If you can’t help…”

“Calm down, Alec. Boy or girl? How old?”

The conversation was so polite it was almost professional. Tess directed him to fat little cars that made noises and came with track pieces. And when that gift had been secured, her voice was soft when she said, “this might be the most civil conversation we’ve had in years, Alec. It’s nice to hear you sound almost happy.”

Hardy was resting one arm against a shelf, frowning sideways at nothing at all, thinking terrible-and-unkind things about his wife. He could have said nothing at all, but he said, “I’ve been happy, Tess. You just don’t get to know about it.”

Her silence was shock.

“Thank you for your help,” he said when he couldn’t take the sound of her breathing one more second. He hung up before she recovered; his body felt flushed hot and he took a minute to steady himself before he trusted his feet to carry him.

Bill was making dinner, and Alec was staying up very-very late.

“What have you been eating?” was Alec’s voice wrapped up in a blanket on his bed. It was shadowed in the after-midnight dark; just now starting to get heavy with sleepiness. “Microwave food?”

“I haven’t had to cook for myself in a very long time. And besides,” he said, off to the side of the stove, where his phone was propped up on a glass container. “It’s oddly difficult to make enough food for just one person. I don’t even know how to shop. I bought six chicken breasts when I went to the store, what am I going to do with six chicken breasts?”

“Eat six meals?”

“The only food packaged with a single person in mind is microwave meals.”

Alec made a noise like a wheeze, a snort of disbelief, and disapproval and amusement all at once. His voice was stretching and settling into a new place as he said, “and you call yourself a doctor.”

“Yes yes.” Bill moved the pan off the hot burner and picked his phone up to take it off speakerphone. Their conversation was yawning itself to a close and there was something far more fulfilling about talking quietly into the phone. “You don’t have to stay up so late,” he said.

“I know I don’t,” Alec agreed. He was quiet, like thinking very carefully about what he wanted to say next.

“Betty said you were my lover boy,” he tried to make it sound like it had been funny. He tried to make it a tease, like it was every bit as silly of her to think such a thing as the people from Broadchurch had been to think they were a couple. It had been funny at the start, when they were building a friendship off appreciation for how silly it was.

But here they were, breathing into a phone call where neither of them wanted to talk first. Here they were with phones full of long text messages and half-whispered admissions. Here he was, with his heartbeat pounding in his chest, biting his lip, hoping and not hoping all at once for some kind of reaction that--

What?

What the hell did he want?

What the hell was he even doing?

Waiting on a man from Broadchurch to tell him that maybe Betty had a point. That maybe if you woke up looking for a message from the man, and fell asleep thinking about what you’d talk about tomorrow, and stole moments from your day to escape into the ease of another nonsense conversation with him.

Alec’s sigh was almost wounded. He said, “tell me something. Something that you couldn’t tell your wife.”

Bill was staring at his socked feet and his floor that desperately needed to be swept. He was churning over a thousand different things in his head, all the ugliest secrets he’d ever kept. He was wondering what sort of test this could possibly be, and how terrified he suddenly found himself to be. He said, “I never loved Libby. Before I met her, I… I was in love. I loved her and I thought, I thought she loved me but I wrote her a note asking her to marry me and…” His throat was squeezing his words out of shape, his face was filling up with heat. Bill pressed a hand across his mouth and then cleared his throat. “It didn’t work out. And I married Libby because I needed a wife and I thought I liked her well enough.”

The silence stretched, and the quiet moved through the phone. Alec must have been pushing himself up to sit on the bed. He said, “did you love Virginia?”

“Yes,” Bill whispered, “but I wasn’t kind to her.”

“I loved my wife,” Alec said, “and that wasn’t enough for her. I don’t want to not be enough for someone again.”

“I want to be happy with someone. I want to know that I’m loved, I want them to know that I love them,” Bill said, because he couldn’t say that he didn’t want to be here. He didn’t want this lonely little apartment. He didn’t want the office waiting for me at his job. He didn’t want any of the things he’d spent his whole life trying to get. Whatever they had meant to him before, whatever franticness had driven him to such heights all these years, it wasn’t in him anymore.

It was stupid, to be standing in his kitchen, hoping that a man an ocean away from him would understand.

Alec said, “don’t make it sound so impossible, Bill. You can have that if you work for it.”

Maybe it was how late it was where Alec was. Or maybe it was how lonely Bill felt just then, but those words sounded almost like a promise.

Then Alec said, “go to Betty’s for Christmas. It’ll be better than being alone. And go eat your dinner, the food’s got to be cold by now.”

“Yeah,” Bill agreed.

“Tomorrow, we’ve got to have an earlier call. It’s one in the morning.”

Bill snorted. “Sleep well, Alec.”

“Enjoy your dinner,” Alec said.

They were idiots on the phone, wasting seconds, waiting and waiting to see if they had to be the first one to hang up. Bill moved first, because just then he wasn’t sure he could bear to hear the sound of the call disconnecting from the other end. He stood in his kitchen, feeling like his skin had been peeled away from his flesh, with something like a flicker of hope resting firmly in his chest.

Hardy woke up like a man with a hangover. The night before had been no less full of rash decisions just because it lacked enough alcohol to justify them. His body felt no less abused. Exhaustion settled into his limbs like filling all his insides up with warm sand. The morning sun mocked him through the window as he lay on his back, searching for some sense of purpose big enough to drag him out of his bed.

Sitting no more than an arm’s distance away was the instrument of his own stupidity. (Just the memory of it made him press both his hands to his face with a groan that shook through his whole body.) The boldness of asking Bill for secrets he’d never shared with anyone else. The agony of laying in this very bed with both his hands wrapped around the phone, waiting for a response he had no right to expect.

But he’d gotten one.

Oh hell.

Staying beneath the blankets, far from the phone and all the damage it could inflict on his well-being, seemed like the only good, logical decision that could be made. A smart man would have walked away, but Hardy was a shaky, weak-hearted sort. He grabbed the phone almost as soon as he’d decided he shouldn’t, and there was a text waiting for him.

Bill had sent it before bed, and all it said was: Good morning, Alec.

The text could have said anything at all and Hardy would have smiled. It was a response made of reflex, a steadily growing expectation that was as essential to the mood of his morning as a good cup of tea. It held him over through the morning quiet as he went about the mundane activities of his life. Just when the softness of a good morning text was waning, Bill showed up with a complaint about his coffee, or his office, or the unnecessary (his words) amount of paperwork waiting for him.

With the way they were carrying on, late evening phone calls were going to become as much a part of his day as good morning texts. He was going to rearrange dinner and bedtime to make a space to answer the phone to the slowly brightening sound of Bill Masters fumbling his way into a conversation. It was a wonder how a man could dial a phone, and wait for it to ring and breathe hello across the ocean and still have no idea what you meant to say. But Hardy did understand why it didn’t matter to him if they talked about the mind-numbing nothings of a day, or exchanged dinner plans, or their least favorite holiday songs. Hardy would have had a conversation about anything at all--

His boldness was self-preservation because he knew. He’d been here before, spending all his time waiting on texts and phone calls. Falling asleep and waking up thinking about what he was going to say the next time. Taking showers without washing his hair, replaying all the words on repeat.

Hardy had to live withe answers he’d been given now. He had to accept life in the aftermath because Bill had barely taken a full minute to come up with an answer, almost exactly like a promise.

So he was an idiot, falling in love with a man he had no hope of being with, smiling at his phone as he typed out: Good morning, Bill.

Bill was wearing the lab coat because he’d convinced himself that he was going to do something like real work today. There was enough of it waiting to be attended to that he shouldn’t have had trouble finding something to throw himself into. He’d convinced himself that it would be better than sorting through resumes, but that had been well over a half an hour ago and all he’d managed to do was find himself staring at the nicely-made bad in the observation room.

His head was full of thoughts that he couldn’t quite hear. It was a peculiar feeling to be caught inside your own body, knowing something was going on, and being just out of earshot of your own emotions. (Or not. Maybe Bill felt plenty. It was the ideas he couldn’t get a grip on.)

“Bill.” Virginia was standing in the doorway, one hand resting against the frame and the other behind her back. Her voice was as soft as flower petals; her face as gentle as early-morning sunshine.

“Virginia.” He didn’t even have a pretense of being caught preparing because he hadn’t even made it as far as pulling a chair out. The most he’d done was turn on a light. They’d built this room to contain any noise and it covered the space around them cotton, sealing away all the world around them.

“I appreciate that you’ve gone out of your way to make my return as smooth as possible,” she said. “I just wonder if… How are you?”

Oh, he was thinking about a beautiful woman named Dody that had whispered his name from kiss-pinked lips like she loved him. He was wondering where she was, and why he hadn’t been enough for her.

Is that what he was wondering?

That’s what Alec had said. That he had loved his wife, and he hadn’t been enough for her. Bill had loved Dody like that, he had dreamed about the life they could have. Oh hell, he’d even imagined a lovely little house, and a little dog, and when they were ready, a child with the face of the woman he loved. He could imagine happiness in Dody’s image because it had felt possible.

Libby begged for children, and she’d gotten them in the end. Bill had never imagined a life full of children with Libby. He’d never dreamed of Christmas carols and little stockings by the fire. He couldn’t imagine kissing her in the morning with an arm wound around her back. He hadn’t even loved his children with any hope, because he had never felt that he could.

That was the sort of bastard his father had made him to be; the one that hadn’t even tried to love his own children. And for what reason? Because he hadn’t wanted them?

(But didn’t he? It had felt like heartbreak in that God-damn operating room, with the weight of his stillborn daughter in his hands. It had felt like his soul had been ripped. You couldn’t break a heart that couldn’t love. He had loved Catherine. He must have loved Johnny, and Jenny, and Howie.)

“Fine,” Bill said, “I’m doing well. Thank you.”

“Things don’t have to be strange between us,” Virginia said. “We’ve always been able to separate our work from other…distractions. I hope that we’re able to find that same balance again.”

“Of course,” he cleared his throat, “right. Of course. I just--” he looked down at the tablet in his hand, and then at the door behind her. “I think I’m not feeling well, if you excuse me. I’m going to take some paperwork and go home.”

Virginia looked, if only for a moment, disappointed by him. As if she had expected something different.

Bill slid past her before he could get caught on wondering why she would look at him like that. He passed Betty in the hallway, and she didn’t even try to stop him. The most she did was frown back down the hall like she already knew what she’d find.

But it wasn’t Virginia’s fault that Bill didn’t know what the hell he wanted. It wasn’t her fault that he’d made this terrible situation. It wasn’t her fault that he wanted to be anywhere in the world but here.

Impulse stopped him at the last moment. And it felt very much like it had the night before. When he was asked for honesty and he had barely hesitated. It must have been all those thoughts of his, just slightly too far away to hear clearly. He called, “Betty?”

“Yeah?” Betty was torn between following him and continuing what she had been doing.

“I’m going home for the day,” was a coward’s way out. He didn’t look away from her trying to figure out what to say in response, so they were still staring at each other when he cleared his throat to add, “and I’d be very happy to accept your invitation.”

“What is that?” Miller had barely made it in the door. Her fingers were still reaching up to pull her scarf loose. Even poor Fred was still bundled so tightly in his winter wear that he couldn’t quite manage to lower his arms.

Hardy had left the gift sitting on the table by the stack of case files that they kept thinking they were going to get to. But the white-shocked-look on Miller’s face made him think that perhaps he should have tucked it out of sight until he’d had the chance to provide some lead-in to giving it to her. (Except that Hardy had never seen the sense in pretenses. People wasted altogether too much time on nonsense.) “It’s for Fred,” he said. And it sounded immediately stupid to him. “For Christmas. I wasn’t sure-- If it’s inappropriat--”

“Oh shut up,” Miller said. Her fingers were still curled into the scarf but she hadn’t managed to pull it loose yet. The words came as one gust of breath and she jerked to the side, spinning around so she wasn’t looking at him.

Fred looked back at his Mom and then up at Hardy. His overstuffed coat sleeves were keeping his arms straight out to the sides but he raised them vaguely toward him. “Off,” the boy said to him. (Or might have been up.)

Hardy could have taken the boy’s coat off but he couldn’t be sure that Miller was going to stay. As much trouble as he appeared to be in, it would just be made worse by removing the coat of a small child that most likely wouldn’t want it put back on. “Miller,” he said.

“Shut up,” Miller repeated but her voice was tight and wet. She turned back to look at him as she wiped at the tears gathering at the edges of her eyes. “What do you think you’re doing?”

There he was, a fully grown man, ducking his head because the truth was that he didn’t know what he thought he was doing. “That’s what friends do, isn’t it? You’ve got a kid and we’re friends, and that means I buy him a present and--”

“Oh, shut up,” Miller shouted at him. She was scrubbing fresh tears from her eyes with greater aggravation. Poor Fred, who had really reached the end of his ability to be held prisoner in his coat, started crying at the sharpness in her voice. Miller pulled her own scarf off before she crouched down to release the boy and kiss his distressed little forehead.

“I can take it back,” Hardy offered.

“Don’t you dare,” Miller snapped. She dropped Fred’s coat on the back of his little couch and pulled her own coat off. “I don’t think Tom’s coming home for Christmas. He says that he needs space and he feels happier when he’s not around me. He says he didn’t want to leave Broadchurch and he doesn’t want to be punished because of me.”

Hardy was miserable with comfort, standing there without any ability to offer anything that might make the thick-wet pain in Miller’s voice even slightly more bearable.

“I didn’t do this, did I? I didn’t murder a boy. I didn’t make us pariahs in our own home. I didn’t-- I haven’t even put up a tree. Fred’s too young to care. I haven’t even thought about making dinner. I didn’t even wrap any gifts. I don’t… I didn’t think I could stand it.”

Hardy looked over at the little boy dragging his box of blocks off the bottom of a low shelf. “We could get a tree,” Hardy said. “I haven’t gotten one because-- What’s the point? Daisy’s visiting her Grandparents with her Mom. I won’t get to see her until New Years, if she agrees to see me at all. We could…” He shrugged, “we could eat. Let Fred open his gifts.”

Miller was shaking her head at him. “You’re a bastard,” she said. And then she cleared her throat again. “Look at me, I’m a mess. I’m going to make myself presentable. And then we’ll talk about trees and dinner and…” She moved like she was going toward the bathroom but she lurched back and dragged Hardy into a hug.

He was too shocked to do more than stand there, and it didn’t seem to matter if he reciprocated or not. She held on a matter of seconds and then let go to retreat to the bathroom. Hardy was left standing there, looking at the empty space where Miller had been until Fred climbed onto the back of the couch to grab his hand.

“Blocks,” the boy said to him.

They were building their sixth tower before Miller came back out, and when she did, her composure was a worn-thin cover barely hiding her pink-tipped nose. She didn’t bother to touch the case files, just came around the couch to sit on the floor with them. “If you were sincere, and you weren’t just offering because I was making a scene, we’d be very happy to have Christmas here with you.”

Hardy nodded, and Miller reached out to wrap an arm around Fred and drag him back up against her body. She kissed his fluffy hair as he wriggled to be free enough to kick over the block tower. “You’ll have to do the cooking if you want something edible,” Hardy said.

Miller snorted. “We’ll split it down the middle. Joe always made Christmas dinner.”

“We can buy premade,” Hardy suggested.

They were idiots, trying to find something like happiness, smiling at nothing.

Betty opened the door with a jerk that made the knob rattle. He’d expected some level of formal attire; most likely something very similar to what they frequently wore to work. But Betty was wearing a baggy T-shirt over a pair of leggings patterned with Christmas tree lights. Her hair was pulled away from her face by a wide-black headband and she smiled at him with fondness that had no name.

“Oh,” Bill said. He was wearing a tie and carrying a bottle of wine (as directed). “Did I come at the wrong time?”

“Is that the pizz--oh.” Helen was all smiles in baggy fleece pajamas zipped from her waist to her neck. She had a fist full of cash and an almost embarrassed smile. “Hello Dr. Masters.”

“Just Bill will do,” Betty said. She opened the door as wide as she could and motioned for him to step inside. “No, you came at the right time, boss. We just decided that we’d take it easy on you this year. We ordered pizza, we bought beer and we’re going to watch Christmas movies.”

“Betty.” He didn’t step inside because he was wearing a suit. He was wearing a tie. He was holding a bottle of wine that certainly cost more than all the pizza and beer combined. There was every indication available that he didn’t belong here. He’d misunderstood the invitation, and he wouldn’t fit. “I think it’s best if I just…”

“Look,” Betty said as she leaned against the door. “No offense to your fancy education and all, boss but I think you might be the least qualified person standing in this doorway to decide what is and isn’t in your own best interest. Now, I thought something like this would happen so I took the liberty of making sure we had some pajamas in your size.”

“No, really, I think…” He took a step back and Helen turned in an awkward circle on her heels to duck back through the doorway she’d come through.

Betty slid forward, so she close enough she could grab him by the hand if she wanted. She was leaning against the door jamb, giving him just enough space to make a run for it. “I’m offering you a night of pizza, beer, pajamas and no expectations. Nobody wants to be alone on Christmas, not even you. And besides,” was a light and happy tilt to her voice, “they’re great pajamas. You can send a selfie to your Scottish sweetheart.”

“He’s not…”

But Betty just hiked up an eyebrow at him, daring him to finish the sentence. She was daring him to call her a liar, and he just couldn’t find the words for it.

“Well,” he shifted on his feet, “I brought wine.”

Betty’s smile was beautiful, and it glowed like the sun. (And he thought, like an answer to all those things that he couldn’t quite figure out, that this is what love must look like. Love at it’s most sincere, and least selfish. Because Betty had nothing to gain from loving him, and still she dragged him into her home just so he wouldn’t be alone.)

Fred fell asleep first, face down in the left over bits of wrapping paper with his fingers curled around one of the noisy little cars Hardy had bought him. He was still wearing the pajamas he’d woken up in and the little white stars caught the twinkle of the Christmas tree lights.

“God, I wish I could fall asleep anywhere like that,” Miller said. She was curled up on the edge of the couch, sipping another mug of just enough eggnog to be an excuse for the alcohol she’d put in it. “Do you remember what it was like to be that unbothered by everything?”

Hardy snorted. “Does anyone?”

They’d had a slow-and-lazy day, drifting through every emotion a human could feel in a day. The morning had started later than he remembered any Christmas involving Daisy had. Fred had found the gifts by the tree, but he was happy enough to get something to eat before he tore into them. Miller had spent an hour in the bathroom crying her eyes out, and they’d put together race tracks and installed batteries until all the toys finally worked.

They’d eaten lunch while they watched kids cartoons off a laptop.

“You’re a pretty good guy, Alec Hardy,” Miller said because she’d had just enough alcohol to make her think the words were a good idea. “Still a shitface. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile--well, I saw you smile, but you didn’t smile at me. You were smiling at your phone.”

Alec was smiling at a stupid picture of Bill Masters wearing fluffy gray pajamas and an elf hat, squished between two smiling women on a small couch. He was smiling because Bill was smiling, even if it was twinged with embarrassment. “I smile,” he said, “when there’s something to be smiling about. What have I got to smile about? My heart is trying to kill me. I can’t drive. I can’t work. I can barely walk some days. And if I die before I solve Sandbrook, all I’ll ever be known for is fucking up an investigation that let a child murderer go free.”

Miller took another drink. She shrugged, “you were smiling at your phone. I saw you. I watched you play with Fred today. You’ve got things to smile about. We both have. Now, don’t start with all that depressing stuff. I’m trying to be a merry drunk.” Her smile was exhausted and her cheeks were pink.

“Fine,” he said.

“Fine,” Miller answered with a smile.

@marvelmisha, @e3105eb, @may-darling, @bigleosis, @it-is-ineffable, @stardust-andwine, @echelongaga, @imnotokaywiththerunning, @heirofsarcasm, @thedoctorsblogger

#illogical husbands #alec hardy #bill masters #grouchy bastards in love #broadchurch #masters of sex

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mwolf0epsilon · 4 years

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Hey look I love your au and I was wondering if you could do Sammy x Susie or Sammy x Jack up to you and maybe see him get along with Wally and another guestion can you please make Sammy’s different personalities please thanks 😊

I'll be honest, this ask was the equivalent of mental whiplash and it made me blank out for half a day.

I'm assuming you were either requesting art or a written prompt, so I went with the latter due to currently being on a commissions only basis for art requests.

I took the liberty to assume this was for SillyTunes AU, where relationships are currently strained, so it's mostly just Sammy and Jack having a heart to heart about past-relationships and repressed feelings.

---

It's not that Sammy resented his father for giving him not the best of upbringings. He couldn't entirely hate the man who paid for his education and who told him to do good by himself if he ever wanted to be better than the city abercrombies that ran about thinking they were better than southern joes like them. He was grateful, even, that his father had tried to raise him clever instead of letting his mind rot like the other kids back in their home town (the ones that threw rocks at birds, blew up rats with smuggled fireworks, and who broke property to entertain themselves because their parents couldn't be bothered to teach them any better).

What he did resent was the ideals he'd rubbed off on him. The bigoted views, the generational shortcomings of the Lawrence men that had been passed down like tradition. Views that had gotten Sammy black eyes, split lips, and busted noses. Worse yet, he resented how confused they made him.

Samuel Lawrence Sr. had been the kind of man to sneer at people he thought unsavory. Called them by their skin color like they were disease riddled animals, things Sammy slipped up on even after promising to be better. But where his father simply glared and commented offhandedly what he thought of others who did not share his skin tone, nothing could compare to his hatred of homosexuals. If anything, Samuel Sr. took glee from spitting out the most soul crushing things he could muster to anyone who looked at the same sex "funny". He aimed to hurt the "freaks" that went against the Bible.

How ironic that his own son was a closeted bisexual.

"You know, if anything I thought you'd be focused on the whole 'holy shit I'm a talking sheep' thing, not your repressed feelings for Norman..."

Bless Jack Fain for being who he was. Sammy had gotten along well with the slightly older man from the moment they met. A rarity if you really knew Sammy. He wasn't a people person and often had to be encouraged by his little sister to play nice. But Jack? Jack just eases him into being more open, more honest. He was a safe person to be vulnerable around, and one he could entrust with his little secret.

Mostly because Jack had his own secret: The fact that he was a gay man married to his best friend, a lesbian who'd orchestrated quite the grifter act so that both of them could be married and happy. Sammy had never personally met the woman, but he was grateful she'd managed to make it safe for his friend to be able to be spiritually married with the man of his dreams.

"That's not even the issue right now and you know it..." He sighed, covering his face (muzzle) with his gloved hands as he lay in the hammock he'd claimed for himself. The furthest one in the corner of the 'communal room'.

"Well, there's also the awkwardness with Susie..." Jack carefully tuned his fiddle as he talked, not once needing to look at Sammy to read him like an open book. "Between one and the other, you're pretty strung up on this whole mess."

"Jack, Susie and I ended on really bad terms, and falling back into friendly banter and hugs is physically painful when we both remember what happened." He looked at the shorter and rounder cartoon sheep. Jack was looking at him now, frowning slightly.

"And Norman?" The other asked calmly.

"Hates me because I apparently killed him while I was all whacky from drinking Satan's blood in inky form." Sammy stated dryly. "Cultist shit aside, Norman's married and has kids... Or uh, was married. None of us know who's out there waiting for us..."

"Norman's married life is none of my business but I'm pretty sure he was on the same boat as you. I've seen him eat up both broads and blokes with his good eye like you eye up a chocolate cake..." Jack pointed out, raising his gloved hand when Sammy went to cut him off. "I'm not saying he'd cheat on his wife, I'm just saying the man isn't as straight as you think... Now on the subject of you killing him... Err... Yeah that's rough, but not your fault."

"Because I can walk over to him now and say 'hey sorry for ripping out your heart with an axe, I wasn't myself'?" Sammy huffed and curled up into a tight wooly ball. This was hopeless. Between pining over Susie and Norman, and feeling guilty over all the shit Joey Drew and his damn magical Ink had put them through?

He felt like a fuck-up. A very confused fuck up that couldn't even figure out who he wanted in his life. And, to make it worse, in came someone he really didn't want to talk with...

"Hey guys, whatcha up to?" 'Wally' walked in with a wolfish smile and a chipper tone in his voice.

"Hey Wally." Jack greeted him back, while Sammy ignored the imposter. He didn't trust this guy as far as he could throw him, and it still annoyed him that the others ignored his very valid concerns. He was miserable enough as is. "Just resting... Sammy wasn't feeling well."

"It's all them inkwells he's been draining. It don't hurt us no more but it can't be good for ya to booze it up like that." The cartoon wolf chuckled as he went to his own hammock to retrieve something. "My ma used to say visiting the gin mill when you was down was only gonna put ya in an evil mood."

"You don't have a ma..." Sammy grumbled under his breath, getting a sharp look from the wolf.

"What was that?"

"Baa. I said baa. Laugh it up twit..." He lied as he gave up on getting comfortable. Might as well get up and move on with his life. Do something productive while he was in a funk.

"Don't pay him mind Wally, you know Sammy's not the nicest when he's joed and yearning." Jack laughed, getting an annoyed glare from the taller cartoon sheep.

"Jack!"

"Yearning for what exactly?" 'Wally' blinked in confusion. "Another drink? A slice of that delicious all the way from the cafe? Uh... Miss Campbell?"

Sammy took off his bell and chucked it at the wolf. It bounced off his snout harmlessly before it vanished and reappeared around the music director's neck. Damned thing! The wolf grinned.

"Awww you're still dizzy with the dame! That's real cute Sammy!"

"I'm not having this discussion with you!"

"Half a discussion you mean." Jack snorted.

"Silence Judas!" Sammy stamped his foot (hoof) and snorted loudly, electing to ignore the visible cloudy puffs that exited his nostrils. Toon logic was mind-boggling and the particle effects a bit annoying with how much they made it easy to read his moods.

"If it's about how screwy things got, why don't ya sit down and talk about it? Miss Campbell is a sweet dame, she'll listen." Wally suggested. "Think she might need t'talk it out anyways... She's pretty down about it too ya know."

This caught Sammy by surprise.

"What do you mean?" He couldn't help ask out of curiosity.

"Heard her venting to Norman. Was none of my business but hard not to eavesdrop when them walls ain't up to code or whatever Thomas goes on about with regulations and stuff..." The wolf shrugged. "Anywhos, she felt bad that she blew up on you when Joey gave her the slip. She didn't know Drew literally only told you and left ya to tell her she was fired..."

"I... How does she know that...?"

"Norman. Turns out Joey used to ramble to himself in his office when he thought he was on his lonesome... He was gonna try warn ya both that Joey was being shifty, but by then t'was too late and the damage was done. He felt awful that he wasn't too fast, but then again he wasn't really s'pose to know that anyway. I wonder if Joey would'a known he was watching him if ya both didn't blow up at each other like ya did over the whole replacement thing..."

Norman had told Susie that Joey had screwed things up between them on purpose? The guy had avoided him since going through Thomas and Henry's version of the machine! Why would he go though the hassle?

"See? That counts for something Sam." Jack smiled. "If he hated you he wouldn't be defending your honor."

"Norman Polk, hating on Sammy Lawrence? You guys crack me up! Guy don't have no mean bone in his body... He's all bark and little to no bite unless you deserve a beating!" Wally laughed.

"None of us have bones anymore idiot... But..." Sammy sighed. "Thanks... For the advice. And the information."

"..." The wolf sat down. "Well I'll be. I must be dead, cuzz there ain't no way Sammy just thanked little old me."

The bell was thrown once more and Sammy stamped off as the fake Wally cackled. Jack merely shook his head and muttered something along the lines of young love.

"You're only five years older than me!"

"That's five years worth more experience than you Sam!"

"Fuck off Jack!"

#Eps Writes:#bendy and the ink machine #batim #sammy lawrence #jack fain #wally franks #SillyTunes AU

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ninasfireescape · 4 years

Text

The ‘Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker’ review no one asked for

I wanted to enjoy it. I really did.

I was one of the people who didn’t dislike The Last Jedi. Sure, I didn’t love it. When I watched it, I thought it was too long and had made certain characters choices I wasn’t too happy with, but overall it was enjoyable and left me feeling satisfied. It was not as good as The Force Awakens however and hearing JJ Abrams was returning, I thought he might be able to restore the final episode to its former glory.

That indeed seemed like the case for the first hour. The gang were back together, it was quick-paced, I had an emotional investment in what was going on (and it seemed like they were taking the Finnrey route I wanted them too). I couldn’t exactly follow every plot specific but does that really matter in Star Wars when it’s so exciting? The bit on Star Killer base was genuinely inspired, I was laughing away at once again what terrible shots the stormtroopers were and at Hux being the spy. Every scene with Lando in was gold.

It was just after they got to the water planet that things started to go wrong. I’m not sure quite what it was exactly that made it so disappointing from this point onwards. Perhaps the gang splitting up or the rather horrifically done Leia death scene. I know they didn’t really have much choice with what footage they had but having watched each member of the original trio died, this death was devoid of emotion and predictable. And she died to make Kylo Ren hesitate for one moment. What a waste!

Then the pointless force ghosts! Seeing Luke was nice but it felt like he was just there to add clunky explanation since the plot made so little sense at this point. And when Han appeared, I actually laughed. It was so inconsistent with the tone of the film and he appeared all while Kylo Ren was standing in the middle of a stormy sea that he could fall into at any moment, right in the most climactic section of the film, just to have a conversation with the son who killed him! It was the most outrageous example of a fan service cameo that just didn’t assimilate with the rest of the film.

I don’t actually have a problem with Rey Palpatine. If anything, I thought it was really cool she was a Palpatine. I really didn’t want her to be a Skywalker because I felt it would be predictable and repetitive. Her being a Palpatine also sends the message to young viewers that blood relations don’t make a family which I think is very important for children to hear. Honestly, the only problem I have with it is that it means some poor lady had sex with Palpatine. I agree that it was a ridiculous retcon of The Last Jedi but then I didn’t like the reveal about her parents in TLJ anyway because of how it was executed. Another thing that bothers me about it is the utter lack of information we get about Villanelle Rey’s mother. Already we don’t know much about her father other than that he’s Palpatine’s son but with her mother, we get nothing. With Rey having wondered about who her parents were for so long, surely it would make sense for her to want to know more about her mother and maybe even take her surname in place of ‘Palpatine’. I also firmly believe Rey’s mother should have been played by Hayley Atwell because she looks so much like Daisy Ridley. And while Jodie Comer is an amazing actress, I think 1. She deserves a bigger role in the Star Wars franchise and 2. Her casting as Rey’s mother exemplifies Hollywood’s fear of casting older actresses as mothers. A twenty six year old as a mother!?

About Zurii, I always appreciate new female characters in Star Wars and I thought she had a great design. However, it is blatantly clear what her purpose in the film was. It was to stop people calling Poe gay, inserting a female character for one scene (she barely spoke in her other scenes so I’m not counting those) with no backstory of her own, just to prove he is attracted to women. Well, first of all, he can be bi, secondly, that’s not going to stop people shipping Finnpoe at all. I didn’t clock until afterwards when I saw people talking about it online, but it was super problematic to make Poe a former drug dealer. Sure, the only Latino character in this trilogy. Also, it in general complicates the little we know about Poe’s backstory so far.

With Rose, all our worst fears were confirmed. She just wasn’t there. She appeared in a couple of scenes and had some lines but you’d think she was no more than another miscellaneous rebel, no more significant a role than Billie Lourd’s character. Did they really give into the white fanboy pressure? How could they erase Rose when she was such a good character? She was tough and fought strongly for her beliefs, but she was also compassionate, sensitive. Now, I never particularly shipped Finn and Rose in TLJ. I thought it seemed a bit of a rushed romance and Finn didn’t seem that invested in the kiss they shared. However, you can’t just pretend they didn’t kiss in the last film. They interacted a few times but there was no sense of any bond between them. Where there relationship stood was unclear. Were they now a couple or had they had an offscreen conversation where they decided they were better off as friends? Who knows?

And now onto the worst part of the film: Kylo Ren and more specifically that kiss. Gross. Okay, to be clear, I wasn’t entirely opposed to a redemption arc for Kylo Ren. Sure, it would be predictable, but it’s not like Kylo Ren’s crimes are any worse than those of Darth Vader and he was still capable of redemption. I liked Kylo Ren as a villain. He perfectly depicted that type of whiny, entitled white man who we see so commonly in real life, but again, he could have achieved some redemption if it were implemented correctly. What we got in the film was not this. He was still committing genocide at the start and carried out one good deed which was saving the woman he had a crush on. For this one good act, he was entirely forgiven and somehow all of the genocide wasn’t his fault. And he got rewarded with the woman! If anything, I’d call that act selfish since he only wanted to save the woman he liked. Adam Driver did the best he could with it but everything about it was awful. And it was out of character for Rey to kiss him and forgive him. She stabbed him little more than half an hour earlier! At the end of the last film, she slammed a door in his face. It makes no sense to me how she could suddenly be so invested in him becoming a better person. There’s also the fact that wasn’t included in the films that Rey and Kylo Ren are related (aunt and nephew to be exact). I wasn’t aware this was Game of Thrones! And according to Wookiepedia, Rey was 18 at the start of the films and is now 20 whereas Kylo Ren is now 30. A ten year age different would be fine if Rey were older but at this point, the age gap is uncomfortable and very borderline.

If they’re going to make the claim that it wasn’t actually Kylo Ren who was doing the evil deeds but some dark force corrupting him, they should have explained how the mechanism works. At least in the prequels, we got some sense of Anakin slowly being corrupted. To me, it reads like in some horror films when the abusive characters are found to have been possessed by demons or something. It trivializes abuse which is something very real, acting instead as if no abusers can actually be responsible for their actions and it is the cause of some supernatural force instead. I suppose the kiss doesn’t have to mean anything. After all, Leia and Luke kissed in the original trilogy and Finn and Rose kissed and apparently that meant nothing.

I firmly believe the series intended a Finn and Rey romance. Lest we forget The Force Awakens, Finn awkwardly asking Rey if she had a boyfriend. That was clear coding for him having a crush on her. In that film, the two developed such a strong bond, and they have so much more chemistry than Rey and Kylo Ren ever had. All the scenes with Rey and Finn (and Poe) were full of light and emotion. The scene at the end where the three of them hugged was honestly the high point of the film. Now, when I left the cinema, what was plaguing my mind the most was that throughout the film, Finn had a secret he wanted to tell Rey. It was first suggested when they thought they were going to die in the quicksand. “Wait, Rey, I never told you!” It had to be that he loved her. What else could it be? Supposedly, it was that he was force sensitive. I don’t believe that for one second. If he needed to tell her that, why couldn’t Poe be included? And why did he never get the chance to tell her? It was a build-up I got invested in with no payoff. It must have been that he loved her. So, if that was the case, that leaves us with two options. Either there was a Finnrey subplot that got cut but they forgot to cut these scenes out (or simply couldn’t be bothered to), or they thought it would be funny to have the black supposed male lead chasing after the white female lead who didn’t love him back because she was instead in love with the genocidal white villain. I ship Finnrey so much and find the second option so horrific but I wouldn’t put it past the writers. Finn played such a significant role in the first half of the film, as he should since he’s meant to be the male lead in the series, but after that, he was dangerously underutilized. At least the ending where no one ends up with each other is compliant with my headcanon that Rey, Finn and Poe (and I don’t mind Rose being in the mix too) all end up married to each other and adopt a bunch of porgs.

And lastly, the lesbian scene. Pathetic. We don’t know the character names and I can’t even find out who the actresses were that played them. Okay, they kissed which is a pretty big deal (even though kisses apparently mean nothing in Star Wars) and it’s certainly a step forward from the Avengers: Endgame ‘’’’representation’’’’, but it’s still rather useless considering the big deal JJ Abrams made about how there would be representation.

#alexia reviews #star wars #star wars spoilers #tros #tros spoilers #the rise of skywalker #the rise of skywalker spoilers #anti tros #anti reylo

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