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angelicyouth · 3 months

Text

Proscenium

⇢ pairing(s): multiple x newkid!reader

⇢ genre: identity reveal ; the stick of truth + the fractured but whole AU

⇢ synopsis: ❝The beginning of the new school year reveals to your friends that you were never a boy like they've always believed you to be, but a girl—and that you have been one the entire time that you've known them.❞

⇢ warning: recreational drug use

⇢ [AO3 link] ; [series masterlist]

⇢ note: this picks up years after the two video games that this AU takes place in (the flashbacks in this story are canon to the games) but can be read with no prior knowledge of them! :)

At thirteen years old, hormones slowly crept up into one’s life until puberty suddenly hit everyone all at once and all too fast. It was in the 8th grade that everyone came back from summer vacation different—what was once baby fat and ambiguous soft edges turned into more defined features and deeper voices. The appearance of girls altered in a way that could only be described as more developed, filling out in areas that they just didn’t used to.

Mr. Garrison decided that with this fresh transition into the beginning of their teenage years, that it would be a swell idea to teach his students about the notion of responsibility and of all the things that encompass it. This led to everyone sitting on the well-worn yet soft material of the fabric that adorns the chairs in the theater belonging to the town’s local middle school.

“Class, settle down now. I want all of you to know that before we begin, each and every one of you are talented. It may not be catered for the skills needed to succeed in theater, like singing or dancing. But don’t be ashamed of trying your best because I’ll find a job for every single one of you. Costume design, stagehand, the set—they’re just as important as the actors, you hear me?” The older man says in reassurance at his heightened stance on the wooden stage, looking at the sea of students that had varying degrees of uncertainty and excitement on their faces.

With these tentative first steps into their young adulthood, everyone was feeling lingering traces of insecurity and confusion. It was the start of the years where the children of South Park were trying to explore themselves as individuals—trying to find out who they are and where they truly belonged.

As such, it was also the time where they often felt too ‘cool’ to try hard in order to fit in with the rest of their peers. Everyone just wanted to belong, to not be labeled as an outcast. This was driven by certain people being naturally blessed by mother nature, their hormones making them conventionally attractive whereas some were struggling with artificial things for societal standards such as the condition of their skin or the metal bulk of their braces.

It was the awkward stage of life where people were more self conscious, more self aware of how they looked and how they spoke—who they hung out with and what their interests were. This was the beginning of when people started paying closer attention to their sexuality, to the genders of the members that each person found themselves attracted to.

It was also the beginning of when the boys started paying closer attention to Y/N L/N.

See, you had always hung out with the boys, often forgoing the likes of Wendy Testaburger or Bebe Stevens. Not because you didn’t like the group of girls in class (because they were still your dear friends, never forgetting to extend a personal invite to you for lunch on the weekends or to trips to the mall), but more so because the guys had claimed you first. They’re all you’ve ever known since the fourth grade—from when you were still the new kid to now, they’ve always been a constant presence both during school and after.

You were there when the boys decided to dedicate their free time to live action role-playing games, like superheroes or fantasy. During the nights that were spent finding scrap fabric to put together and painting props for when they donned their multicolored costumes and created super aliases. Or when the Kingdom of Kupa Keep was at war with The Elves for the wooden relic that once possessed the control of the whole entire universe.

The thing was, living in a mountain town like South Park meant that people typically adorned multiple, thick layers of material to help insulate themselves against the freezing temperatures. You, of course, weren’t an exception to the weather as you didn’t grow up here like the rest of your friends, which meant that you always kept either your hood up or wore a hat to keep yourself warm.

Granted, you didn’t find out until later on that your parents were actively trying to hide your identity from the government, but this inadvertently assisted in everyone misgendering you. It also didn’t help that you were silent in nature and therefore never bothered to correct anyone, but on the other hand, this earned you the fond nickname of ‘Douchebag’ and the boys never quite realizing that you were not a boy, but a girl.

・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑

You were late for the first day of the school year, rushing to rip off all of the paper tags attached to the new clothing your mother bought for you when she realized how quickly you outgrew your wardrobe during the summer. Unsteadily hopping around on one foot with a toothbrush wedged into your mouth, you finally got a leg through the soft material of the skirt that you were going to wear for the day.

Discreetly trying to open the heavy double doors leading to the school’s auditorium proves to be futile as everyone casts their bored eyes towards the disturbance at the back of the room. Keeping your head lowered in an attempt to stay hidden, your legs rush to bring your body to where your group of friends were sitting.

“Uh, what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Cartman arrogantly calls out when your body lands onto an unoccupied seat near him, your eyes rolling as you lay your backpack on the floor beside your feet.

“Aye! I’m fucking talking to you!” The larger teen yells in indignation when you continue to ignore him, his face heating up in anger when the guys begin to snicker behind their hands.

Heaving his body up, Cartman leans closer to you to roughly yank the hood off of your head to identify the current bane of his existence. This, however, leads him to be swept in confusion as the rest of the guys similarly halt their vocal amusement. “Who the fuck..?”

“Y/N—are you here? You’re up next to audition.” Garrison calls out, the boys quickly whipping their heads when they see you haul your form up to begin your ascent to the stage.

“What the fuck are you doing?! N/N’s not some lame pussy bitch!”

A tired sigh resounds from the older teacher’s mouth because it was way too early to be dealing with this shit. “Eric, Y/N has been a girl for the past four years that she’s been living in South Park. Nothing has changed except for your attention to details.”

“Wh—no he isn’t!” He sputters.

The guys stare at you in varying levels of disbelief and confusion, watching as you tuck visibly soft strands of hair behind your ear while Mr. Garrison passes you a script. Not only are you wearing a damn skirt (which the boys greedily eye as they showcase your long and smooth legs), but your jacket is unzipped for the first time that they’ve met you (in your haste to get ready, your scrambled brain forgot to properly zip it all the way up).

Due to this, they could see the way that the fabric of your top hugs your developing curves in all of the right places—cinching the delicate slopes of your waist and allowing them to see the growing but still notable bust that your outerwear has never revealed. It is then that their admittedly slow brains catches them up on the long lashes that gently kisses the red skin of your still cold cheeks everytime that you blink and how under the fluorescents of the stage lights, the pretty pink of your plump lips are further accentuated to slicked perfection.

“... Douchebag..?” Butters hesitatingly calls out, his voice meek in the sudden revelation of information on their long-time friend.

Busy reading the ink running along the script within your hands, the boys become shocked to muteness when your head lifts up in attention to the sound of your nickname. Your head tilts to the side in question when no one speaks, your disinterested eyes patiently waiting for the verbal reason that they called you.

“No fucking way.” They all seem to chorus because…

… When in the hell did the notoriously mute member of their group become so hot?

・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑

“I call dibs!” Clyde yells out as soon as the boys step just one foot onto the cold linoleum that covers the hallway’s floors when the last class before the lunch period is dismissed.

“Wh—you can’t fucking do that!” Kenny indignantly cries out, the blonde angrily pushing his parka’s hood back so that he can properly argue.

“Yeah, I can! Wanna know why?” The brunette smugly continues, his arms crossed in self satisfaction for speaking up first as all the guys glare at him.

“Well, I’m super handsome and insanely funny! I play sports so my hot bod is just as amazing as my smile and I’m clearly so generous and kind and nice since I’m giving you assholes multiple reasons instead of one!” He childishly finishes off, a cheeky grin stretching wide on his face even as Kenny grabs him by the collars of his letterman jacket to roughly slam him against the metal surface of the nearest locker.

“What?!” The blonde screams into his face in frustration.

“That’s fucking lame, dude. If you think N/N is going to settle for some shallow, narcissistic asshole then there’s no point of claiming her first.” Stan angrily spits out, the skin in between his eyebrows furrowed and his fingers fidgeting with the spark wheel of his lighter as he lazily leans beside where Clyde and Kenny are trying to throttle each other.

“Says the self proclaimed rizzler who gets an upset twummy wummy when a cute girl so much as looks in your direction, barf breath.” Kenny mocks in a baby voice, the blonde halting in his attempted murder as his brunette victim begins to obnoxiously laugh at his quip.

“Oh gee fellas… Well if it’s first come first serve, then I guess I’ll be getting this one. See ya!” Butters quickly tries to walk away from the group before Craig grabs him by the neckline of his sweater, effectively choking the blonde until he stops.

“And how the hell does that make any sense?” The taller ravenette asks, an eyebrow condescendingly quirked up and his fist unwillingly to let go lest the blonde tries to pull a fast one again.

“Wuh—well because! I’m the first person that met her, don’tcha fellers remember? I was the one to bring her to Kupa Keep when she first moved in so I’m her oldest and dearest buddy!” Everyone stops walking as they display unamused looks on their faces at the explanation, causing the captured teen to nervously rub his knuckles together at their joined silence.

Kyle rolls his eyes and crosses his arms, “Yeah—by like, 5 minutes! And I don’t think you should be proud of that encounter because you were getting your ass handed to you when she met you.”

“And what’s wrong with that? N/N is strong and fearless and kind—why, she’s simply a bajillion times more noble for rescuing me when she didn’t even know me! That’s more than you fellas with your constant teasing, and you’ve all known me since we were babies!” The blonde pouts as he soothingly rubs the front of his now tender neck when Craig finally lets go.

Cartman deeply sighs, bringing a hand up to smooth the crease in between his eyebrows. “Just shut the fuck up, Butters. Y/N’s not here for you to suck her apparently non-existent dick, you fucking kiss ass.”

“You guys are acting like a bunch of stupid virgins.” Craig is expressionless as they reach the back of the school where the loading bay is, the chullo-wearing teen leaning against the wall as he leisurely watches Kenny plop down on the asphalt and pull a bong out of his backpack.

“Says you! Why do you even care?! I thought you liked it up the ass, you goddamn cocksucker!” Cartman is quick to yell, shoving both his hands in his jacket’s pockets to generate more warmth against the freezing Colorado air.

“Nyah! We like girls, t-too!” Tweek says, glancing at his ex-boyfriend as the ravenette flashes a vulgar middle finger that he annoyingly sticks into the larger teen's irritated face.

“Now that’s just fucking greedy.” The brunette scoffs, roughly pushing Craig’s arm away as the ravenette savagely snickers.

“That’s rich coming from the selfish fatass who can eat three times his weight in one sitting. Wouldn’t want N/N to suffocate on a date with you when you can’t see her over your huge fucking double chin and accidentally sit on her.” Kyle snarks as he rolls his eyes while Stan wheezes and mimics having a makeshift double chin by angling his head as low as it can against his collarbones to make the skin bulge.

Cartman loudly retorts as he roughly pushes away the ravenette’s laughing face, “It’s funny you say that when you have a fat bitch mom yourself, Kahl! Tell me: did she keep pushing even when you were already out of her gaping pussy because she couldn’t see you over her saggy fucking tits?!”

“All of you are greedy assholes! You guys can’t be good bros just this once and let me have this one?” Clyde pouts, the brunette sliding his back down against the wall until he’s seated on top of the gritty surface of his skateboard.

“No.” Everyone simultaneously deadpans.

“Blah blah blah—okay, now who wants to say grace before I light this baby up?” Kenny smirks up at the guys as he packs a bowl, Stan snorting a laugh as he pushes the blonde on the arm when he hands him his lighter.

“You know, it doesn’t really matter who calls dibs when it’s Y/N who gets to decide who she wants to be with. You can’t force her into anything just because we’ve found out that she’s been a girl this whole entire time. She’s not an object for us to claim.” Kyle resolutely states when it doesn’t seem like a decision will be (peacefully) made, causing the redhead to resort to logic and sense.

“He’s got a point.” Tolkien mutters, the only one not fighting over you as he texts his long-time girlfriend Nichole Daniels.

“Oh, shut the hell up with your unicorns and rainbows pussy talk, you stupid fucking Jew! You’re only saying that sappy shit because you know that she won’t pick you even if you did get dibs!” Cartman retorts before dramatically pinching his nose when Kenny rips the bong and obnoxiously exhales the smoke into the brunette’s face.

“Aw, sick! Your low quality shit stinks!”

“Mmm, I think that’s just your upper lip that you’re smelling, fat boy. You do know that if you’re not properly dusting the crumbs off of your greasy mouth after every meal, the food will eventually go bad and rot.” The blonde lazily grins as he hands Craig the bong.

“Look, all I’m saying is that it’d be best to just give her to me. Isn’t it less embarrassing for you guys if Y/N chooses me because I have dibs as opposed to her rejecting all of you, only to still like me because you’re all just ugly and boring?” Clyde pouts up at the guys, his body swaying from side to side as he rolls his skateboard in one place.

“Sorry Donovan—but I’m not letting a fine piece of ass like Y/N go without a fight, even if I have to fight a bro for her.” Kenny says as he leisurely watches Stan cough after taking a fat rip from the smoking device.

“Didn’t think you were the type to work for it, McWhoredick. With all the easy people you usually go for on the daily, I don’t think it’d be cool for you to just hit it and quit it like you usually do.” Craig straightens up from his previously laid back slouch against the wall, his clenched jaw slightly lifting up as he looks down at Kenny from his heightened stance.

The blonde takes that as a challenge as he stands up from the floor, his hands quick to shoot out and roughly shove at the ravenette. “You’re a fucking bastard, you know that? Fuck you. I wouldn’t do that shit to Y/N.”

A hand grabs the material of Kenny’s parka at his elbow to stop the altercation from escalating even further, Tweek’s other hand tightly clutching onto the buttons of his top in anxiety. “I-I don’t know, dude… She’s our best friend, you know? That’d be really fucked up.”

Kenny rips his arm away from the other blonde and eyes every single person in the group with no trace of his usual carefree stance. “Seriously? Well I think it’s fucked up that you guys suddenly have feelings for her just because it’s been revealed that she’s actually a girl.”

And when no one says anything, the blonde scoffs. “I’ve always flirted with her since we were kids. Sure, I might have covered it up by passing it off as a lighthearted joke so that she couldn’t outright reject me, but it doesn’t make whatever I said to her less true.”

Kenny continues, “And I may be a ‘whore’ but I’m not a messy bitch who’d carelessly do shit like that with someone in our own damn friend group, especially to someone who means so much to me like Y/N. But let it be known: I was always transparent with how I felt and how cute I thought she was even when I thought she was a boy.”

And he was right—your earliest memories of being new in South Park were, naturally, of meeting new people. And when you talked to Karen McCormick for the first time during a day of playing your group’s fantasy game, she had told you right off the bat:

“Oh, hey! You’re the new kid! My sister, the princess, texted me about you. She thinks you’re cute.”

“That’s… That isn’t true.” Stan hesitantly speaks up once the silence seemed to stretch on.

The area of skin between his eyebrows are furrowed as he looks away from the group to avoid looking at anyone's reaction to his words. He shoves his hands into the pockets of his jacket and his teeth lightly nips away at his bottom lip in notable distress.

Kyle is visibly surprised at this revelation, “…Stan?”

The ravenette still doesn’t look over at his best friend or at anyone in the group, deeming the sight of the school’s janitor emptying out the trash a more interesting sight as he continues, “I uh—there was a time when I felt guilty. I thought I only liked girls but then I started seeing Y/N differently. It freaked me out because I was always into Wendy, y’know?”

Stan nervously mumbles, “I don’t know when it happened or how, but it was like I suddenly started noticing everything she did. My eyes kept automatically looking for her: to see her reaction when someone said or did something—if I could catch a glimpse of her rare smile or hear her quiet laughter. Even if there was nothing to see, I just liked to know that she was there and that she was okay.”

“No, I… I get it. Me too, actually.” Now it’s Stan’s turn to look shocked when he finally looks over at Kyle, the redhead sporting a madly growing blush as his hand shyly rubs the back of his neck at his confession.

“What?! Yeah, right! Quit dickriding by copying your little boyfriend just to make him jealous!” Cartman yells out in disbelief.

“Shut the fuck up! It was…,” Kyle takes a moment to carefully think of the right term to eloquently express his feelings. “Confusing, right?”

He feels somewhat relieved and comforted when Stan silently nods in agreement, the gesture reassuring him and validating his experience as he feels more encouraged to speak up. “I didn’t know if the lines between platonic and romantic feelings were beginning to blur. I couldn’t tell if I was just mixing them up together or something but after some time, I figured that it didn’t matter because it was Y/N. And so, I was just satisfied as long as I had her by my side, even if it was as a friend.”

It’s quiet for a moment as everyone thinks to themselves, the air somber with only the sounds of the janitor rolling away the trash can being heard as he walks back into the warmth of the school building. The double door loudly closes behind him, blocking out the noise of students inside talking as silence once again pervades the area.

“Well, all this talk about feelings and shit is amazing and not in the least bit boring but I’ve never been confused with how I felt since I already knew I swung both ways. I’m only doing something about it now because you fuckers are going to go for her and like hell am I just going to let that happen without trying.” Craig interrupts, his eyes lingering on Tweek to let him know that he wasn’t afraid to make his ex his rival in this endeavor either.

“Yeah, cause we all know she’s only going to settle for one of you poor bastards if her first choice isn’t pursuing her.” Clyde boasts, his chest proudly puffed out as he points one of his thumbs at his smiling visage to indicate that he was the aforementioned 'first choice'.

Craig snickers at his unbridled confidence as he shoves the brunette and leans over to snatch the glass bong out of Stan’s hands to take another hit. As he lights the bowl, Kenny pushes the taller teen’s face away to inhale the smoke instead.

Cartman scoffs as he snarks the group, “You guys are a bunch of fucking simps. Did your feelings make all of you lame-o pussies? Or did all of your periods somehow sync up today?”

“Some friends we are—we never even noticed such a big thing about someone we claim to fucking like.” Stan bitterly laughs, forcing the guys to remember the small comments they ignorantly made to you when you were still kids:

Cartman: You know, you have kind of pretty hair for a boy. You better not be a hippie or something.

Jimmy: I thought feminine-looking guys went out of style in the 80’s, but the new kids pulling it off.

Clyde: You kind of have big raisins for a boy, New Kid.

Scott: I’ve never seen a boy with such soft skin, what’s your secret?

Butters: Hey, Butthole. Anyone tell you for a boy you’re kinda pretty?

Kenny: You kind of remind me of my sister—I have this weird urge to protect you.

Stan: You know, for a boy you’re kind of feminine New Kid.

Kyle: There’s nothing wrong with a boy being feminine, be true to yourself.

“How are you guys so sure that she even likes boys? You were wrong about her gender and you could be wrong about this too.” Wendy slyly says to the pondering group as she passes by, Bebe giggling at her companion’s words as the boys snap out of their reminiscing.

Before they walk away too far, the female blonde decides to further antagonize the guys as she sticks out a tongue at them. “Didn’t ya know? Wendy knew that Y/N was a girl since the day that she moved in and you stupid boys didn’t!”

Cartman’s mouth drops open as everyone watches the two walk away in disbelief, “That fucking bitch.”

・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑

“Sorry for keeping you from lunch, Douchebag! Ah, my bad. Can I still call you that or..?” Scott Malkinson says as he blushes in embarrassment (and for seeing the entirety of your newly revealed face up close for the first time), his hand going up to rub at the brown tufts of hair at the back of his head.

“I mean, no problem if you’re not comfortable with it or have always disliked it! You probably wouldn’t want to go by Buttlord and stuff anymore too…” He nervously mumbles to himself.

You just offer a small nod as your eyes soften around the edges, your hands busy with stapling the packet of papers holding the directions for your two-person research essay for your science class before handing it to him. There didn’t seem to be a point in pulling up your hood anymore (reminiscent of the way Kenny often did) when the boys finally figured out you were a girl.

Zipping open his backpack, you patiently watch as Scott tucks away the report’s instructions for safekeeping in a folder before he offers you a bashful smile. He softly knocks a fist into your arm, “Hey. I really am sorry for misgendering you this whole time. Girl or boy, you’ll always be my trusty sidekick. Right, superpal?”

“Woah there, Malkinson! You’re not tryna pull a fast one on our girl when we aren’t looking, are ya?” Your attention shifts at the sound of Clyde’s voice, an arm being thrown over your shoulders as he protectively pushes you against his body. “You sly dog, you!”

From your peripherals, you see the other guys walking to catch up to where you are as Stan locks an arm around your science partner's neck to put him into a headlock and roughly tousle his hair. You disinterestedly look away when Kenny comes up to you with a wide smile, the blonde reaching an arm out to dap you up in greeting as per usual.

However, instead of stepping back after your half hug, he pulls on your interlocked hands to take you out of Clyde’s clutches and keeps you against his chest. Kenny’s larger hands slowly settles themselves against the curves of your waist as he presses his smile against the column of your neck.

“Missed me, beautiful?” He says, his lips evoking a cacophony of goosebumps as they ever so slightly skim against the soft expanse of your skin after every word.

“Knock it off, bastard. She doesn’t need your rank breath and your dirty hands on her.” Craig angrily mutters out as he pulls you away, only for a pair of arms to sneak around your waist from behind before someone’s chin plants itself onto one of your shoulders.

Kenny scoffs, obnoxiously trying to put said hands onto the taller ravenette’s face. “Your poor people stereotypes don’t do anything to hurt me, Craigory baby!”

Your face is as expressionless as always as you turn to identify your newest captor, a pout on Butters’ face. “That’s not fair Ken, and you know it!”

“Hey, you assholes said it yourselves: I’m always like this. So I’m not quite sure what you’re accusing me of, Butters. Unless you’re projecting your own ulterior motives onto lil’ old me?” Kenny has a lazy smile on his attractive face as he crosses his arms behind his head.

You don’t get to lean your body into Butters’ hold for too long before you feel someone’s hand sneak into the crook of your arm, trying to pull you out of your surrounding warmth. When you see that it’s Tweek fidgeting by your side, you place a reassuring hand on his own as you assume that his anxieties are getting out of control and needed comfort.

“Ngh! Y-you all need to leave her alone!” He yells, swiftly turning over his hand so that he can interlock your fingers together.

“Don’t be nice to him, Douchebag! He’s just faking it so that you’ll feel bad! The whole ‘liking it up the ass’ thing? It was all a FUCKING ACT!” Cartman indignantly shouts as he tries to separate your hands from each other, the blonde barista trying his hardest to not let go.

“Fuck you, ack! It just d-didn’t work out between us!” Tweek defends himself as he tries to bite the brunette’s unrelenting hands off.

“I can see why! Neither one of you have pussies. As I said already: you’re a bunch of fake homos who did it for money and attention!” Cartman yells before he loudly yelps from the blonde’s teeth finally breaking through his skin.

“Sick, dude. You might want to get tested for HIV… Or rabies.” Kyle grimaces as he watches Tweek hurriedly spit into the nearest trash can.

“And don’t be an ignorant piece of shit, fatass. You can still be a girl and not have a vagina.” The redhead continues while crossing his arms.

“Meh meh meh.” Cartman mocks in a high pitched voice to which Kyle just stares back unamused, “Shut the fuck up, god! You’re talking to someone who was fucking transginger before! Of course I fucking know that! And have some goddamn tact next time, asshole—I was going through a lot of shit so it was a dark time for me back then!”

"Wh—You brought up you being transgender yourself, dumbass!"

Tolkien tiredly sighs at everything going on before handing Tweek his hydro flask to gargle its contents, a frenzied mantra of oh god’s being repeated between mouthfuls of water. He soothingly pats the blonde on the back as the barista bends over, hysterically heaving in panic while Kenny watches and cackles in amusement.

“Yeah, Y/N. You have an unnatural allegiance to losers.” Stan side eyes the two as he finally lets go of Scott, the brunette yelling out hasty goodbyes in order to escape the apparent arguing and to fix his messed up hair.

“Which is exactly why she keeps you around, Stanley.” Craig is quick to snark while he roughly pulls Cartman away from trying to get even with Tweek.

“Not true!” He yells.

Craig stares blankly at the protesting ravenette, “Uh-huh… Staniel, tell me: what medications are you on again?”

“For my depression? Uhh, Lexapro. I think. Why?”

“I think they need to switch you to the stronger shit or rediagnose you because right now, you’re being fucking delusional. We smoked the same shit just now so I know it’s not whatever strain Kenny has that’s fucking you up.” Craig dismisses, using his height to his advantage as he condescendingly pats Stan hard on the back of his neck and causes him to stumble.

“Oh fuck you—“

Kenny impatiently interrupts, the blonde pulling you away. “As much as I love me some fucking, let’s just go to lunch already! You guys can bitch all you want in the cafeteria—I’m hungry!”

“You’re always hungry though, poor ass.” Cartman mumbles as everyone starts to move.

“Fuck you, I’m stoned.”

・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑

The lunch room is as noisy as ever from where you stand, your disinterested eyes looking around while your arms get recklessly tugged back and forth. You don’t pay any mind to the curious stares of any passerby and those sitting near your standing position as you’ve already grown used to the unwarranted attention your friends always seem to attract from their antics.

“N/N is sitting with me!” Clyde yells out to which the brunette emphasizes with a pull on the arm of yours that he's tightly hugging to his chest.

“She sat next to you yesterday when we went out and got pizza for lunch, you greedy asshole!” Kenny argues back as he resolutely plants his feet against the cafeteria floor, not budging from where your hands are intertwined.

“Not fair—I haven’t sat next to my buddy all week when we've eaten.” Butters pouts from where he stands in front of you as his hands grab hold of your jacket and his fingers mindlessly fiddles with the zipper of it.

With one last tug, Kenny guides you over to the group's designated table before the other two can react and offers a solution. “Here: my princess can just sit on my lap so that the both of you crybabies can still sit next to her.”

The blonde demonstrates by settling you over his thighs before he tightly locks his arms around your waist, sending a cheeky smile over your shoulder at the flabbergasted blonde and brunette still standing up. “There! Problem solved. Fuck, I’m a genius.”

Kyle rolls his eyes as he takes your tray of food in his unoccupied hand and places it on the table between his own and Stan’s, causing Kenny to pout when you stand up to sit where your lunch is. Once sat, you watch as the ushanka-wearing teen opens up the plastic holding your utensils before he hands you your spork.

“Y/N.” You blankly turn your head away from your food to face Clyde.

The brunette leans over the table to wipe a smidge of sauce that was left on your face with his thumb, his finger lingering at the edge of your lips. “You got something on your pretty face.”

Your eyes dart towards his finger when he pulls away to show you the hint of food he wiped off before you lean forward to lick it off of his finger for him. Clyde’s grin stretches impossibly wide across his face at your welcomed action, both of his elbows planting themselves on top of the table that he was still laying his stomach over as he cups his cheeks with his hands and brings his legs up to delightedly kick them back and forth like a lovesick schoolgirl.

“Fucking knock it off, Clyde!” The brunette yelps out of his daze when Craig grabs one of his swinging feet to roughly yank him off of the table.

“Dude.” Stan forlornly stares at his knocked over can of soda, the carbonated liquid thankfully spilling onto the floor and not on anyone’s clothes.

“You’re a fucking try-hard, you know that?!” Cartman yells as he fumbles to catch his opened pack of snacky cakes before they fall onto the dirty cafeteria floor from the other brunette’s actions.

Clyde is unable to verbally defend himself against the larger teen as he tries to hold his hand as close to his chest as possible while fending off Kenny with the other. While he gently cradles his appendage to his body, the blonde tries to get the prized finger to himself for a chance at an indirect kiss.

“Talk about desperate. You beg for sex like you beg for food, McCormick.” Craig mumbles as everyone watches the fighting pair in a mixture of disgust and disappointment.

“Wuh-what’s going on, fellas?” Jimmy asks as he takes a seat besides a stressed out Tolkien, the teen irritatedly rubbing his temples with his eyes closed to soothe the quickly growing headache he was developing.

“Jimmy! Finally, someone sane. I’m going crazy—they keep fighting over Y/N.”

“Competition? F-f-for what? They say girls love someone funny and I’ve already made Y/N laugh the most in the past!” The brunette proudly boasts before Tolkien bemoans the loss of who he thought was his only ally.

It's only the first day of school, the wealthy teen thinks to himself in dread as he begins to wonder if he should start sitting with Timmy instead.

・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑

Taking a sip of your chilled juice makes you slightly shiver, causing Stan to notice from his close proximity to you. Dusting off his hands together to take away any remnants of crumbs leftover from his brownie, the ravenette reaches over to zip your jacket up after he deems his hands clean enough to not leave a stain.

From the next seat over, Craig notices the interaction and what caused it so he takes it upon himself to place his beloved chullo on the top of your head. He reaches across from the front of Stan’s chest and in result, roughly pushes him away (he almost falls ass first out of the bench he's sitting on) as he takes care to ensure that both of your ears are properly covered.

The taller teen simply smirks when the ravenette glares at him for one-upping him—Craig’s hat providing additional warmth and even displaying a mark of possession that simply zipping up your outerwear couldn’t provide for other students to see. Their silent but heated stare-off gets interrupted when someone uses the earflaps from Craig’s chullo to forcibly turn your head to another direction.

“Douchebag, come over to mine after school. My mom got me that new video game we were talking about last week and you’d be a stupid loser to not be one of the first people in town to play it.” Cartman demands after he lets go of the soft material to resume devouring his lunch.

“No can do, fatfuck. Y/N already promised to go to my house so that we can do homework together.” Kyle interrupts with a self-satisfied grin on his face that only serves to make the brunette loudly slam his hands on the surface of the table in anger.

“Ooo, group study session at Kyle’s house after school?” Butters perks up at his own suggestion, an innocent grin adorning his face as he looks at everyone at the table for confirmation.

“Fuck you, I didn’t invite any of you bastards over except for her.”

“Ditch them, babe—Karen misses you! Why don’t you come over to my house instead so you can visit her?” Kenny jumps at the opportunity to speak up first after Kyle’s dismissal over Butters' self-invitation.

The boys see you visibly perk up as you straighten your back at the mention of the blonde’s younger sister, making Craig furrow his eyebrows together. “Fuck off. If there’s anyone that Y/N wants to see the most, it’s Stripe.”

Stan immediately scoffs as he pushes around his vegetables with his spork, the ravenette mumbling under his breath as his chin rests on his open palm. “I mean, at least he’s not using his own sibling as a cheap way to get her to visit. Not like I can do the same when I only have a bitch older sister at home.”

“Oh! How about a pet play date then! I can bring Rex!” Clyde excitedly contributes to Craig’s words, only for the ravenette to glare at him when they make eye contact.

"Wait, then I can bring Sparky—"

Kyle interrupts Stan before the conversation can escalate even further, “No! I already told my ma that Y/N is coming over so she’s making extra dinner.”

“Then there’s enough food for all of us to come over tonight.” Cartman says around a mouthful of chicken with an air of finality.

“That’d add another 30 servings on just you alone. So no, fatass, there isn’t enough food for you in my house or even in the whole entire goddamn grocery store that can satisfy the endless void that’s your fucking stomach.” Kyle argues back as his face contorts in disgust at the brunette’s lack of decorum at the lunch table, his hands quickly shooting out to shield both his and your lunch from any spit or stray bits of food.

“Aye!”

You patiently wait for him to take his hand away from where it’s hovering protectively over your tray but as you do, you get distracted from their bickering when Butters holds out a spoonful of his fruit cup. “Here, little buddy! I know how much you like this combination.”

Your eyes soften around the edges in thanks as you lean forward to eat it directly out of his spork, the blonde’s hand kindly waiting for you to chew before he pulls the utensil away and continues to eat his snack.

“Ack!” Tweek hurriedly fumbles to pour out a cup of still-warm coffee from his metal tumbler, his eyebrows furrowing in intense concentration as he tries to reign in his shaking hands to bring the portable cup up to your face for a sip without spilling.

Clyde watches in disbelief as you bring your body as close as you can from your seat at the table to drink the blonde’s offering, causing him to hurry with sticking a cheesy poof halfway into his mouth. “Here, N/N! Have some of this!”

Kyle’s eyes widen when he sees you starting to lean your face forward in the brunette’s direction, his hands shooting out to stop you from moving any further to give the brunette an opportunity for a kiss. “Y/N! No, goddammit!”

You blankly stare at the teen for interrupting before something moves in your peripherals, your eyes darting to the side to see Craig patiently holding out a chip towards you. As you turn your body towards his, he pulls it away from your face at the very last second.

“Sit next to me in class and I’ll give you a piece.” He smirks when you nod before taking a bite of the proffered snack out of his hand.

Kenny overhears and bitterly tsk’s to himself before placing a hand across the table with his palm facing up, his fingers wiggling as he also attempts to gain your favor through food. Your head cocks to the side at the action before you obediently place your hand on top of his, the blonde interlocking your fingers together as he brightly smiles at his success.

“Good girl.” He gently coos at you as he feeds you a piece of his cookie, his cerulean orbs watching you in endearment when you chew the dessert before he gives your linked appendages a soft squeeze.

Once eaten, the blonde uses his now unoccupied hand to pet the top of your head to which Stan sneers at. “Quit it, dude. She’s not one of your pet rats for you to coddle.”

“And what about me?! You fuckers never share any food whenever I ask!” Cartman slams both of his hands down onto the surface of the table (again), causing all of its seated occupants to roll their eyes as they settle their rattling cans of soda and water bottles from tipping over.

“You’re spouting bullshit—I’ve offered you food before.” Craig disinterestedly says as he takes the rest of Kenny’s cookie to prevent him from feeding you again and shoves it all in his mouth in one go.

“Only when you’ve dropped it on purpose and told me to eat it from the fucking floor if I wanted it so badly, you bastard!”

The ravenette merely shrugs, not seeing a fault in his actions as he pushes away the raging blonde trying to punch him. “Same thing. Bitches can’t be choosers or however that saying goes.”

At his words, the edges of your lips unconsciously quirk up into a small smile. It’s like Hell freezes over as everyone stops whatever they’re doing to get a glimpse of a sight so rare to see from your usually blank face.

“Quick! Take a picture! Take a fucking picture!” Clyde yelps at Kenny's demand as his hands fumble in their haste to rip his cellphone out of his jacket’s pocket.

You wonder to yourself why you’ve maintained the façade of being a boy when the dangers of the government trying to find you stopped being a threat so long ago. Maybe, you’ve unconsciously been trying to continue the lie because the person everyone thought you were when you were the "male Y/N" was the one that your friends already found themselves loving and enjoyed being around.

And who would take such a risky chance at changing such a beautiful thing like the precious friendship that this dysfunctional group of boys brought you?

But with the way that everyone is acting after the initial nerve-racking reveal of your true identity from this morning, you find it silly that you ever thought for a second that you might have disappointed your friends with who you really were. Because right now, as you see everyone around the table watching you with eyes that look at you as if you held the whole entire universe in just the palm of your small hands, you let yourself know that there was nothing to ever worry about.

At this thought, your smile slowly widens until a full set of pearly white teeth makes their appearance and a beautiful hue of pink paints the apples of your cheeks. This seemingly knocks any incoming words from leaving the boy's mouths as they watch in stunned silence.

You giggle over the din of chattering students in the cafeteria, causing the guys to lean even closer than before to hear the melodic sound of your rare laughter. “It’s beggars can’t be choosers, dumbfuck.”

a/n: ((i truly tried writing jimmy as a love interest because duh, it's not team craig without him!! but for the life of me, i cannot write him in fics & i really don't know why **sobs**))

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headspace-hotel · 1 year

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It's easy to see how chemophobia became so widespread to the point that companies advertise their products as containing "only ingredients you can pronounce." It's wretched that this spawned the antivax movement and other similar movements, but there are incredibly good historical reasons behind WHY people are terrified of "chemicals."

Reasons like: Agent Orange, DDT, Superfund sites, any of a wide range of incidents where chemical companies—in many cases, knowingly—poisoned people and communities because Number Go Up. History has shown again and again that companies do not give a fuck about ruining people's lives exposing them to toxic substances.

Unfortunately these people live in a world where EVERYTHING around them contains ingredients they can't pronounce and there is very little knowledge of basic chemistry, and a person has no choice but to either develop life-altering paranoia about contamination, or just settle into a sense of (naive?) security about the Chemicals in the world around them.

So these powerful cultural memories (and totally rational distrust of Bayer, DuPont, and Monsanto) have been hijacked to Sell Product (No chemicals! Ingredients you can pronounce! All Natural! Organic!) and/or been channeled into some horrible and ultimately baseless movements that, these days, form a pipeline straight into fascism.

Alex Jones' anxiety about chemicals "turning the freakin' frogs gay" is part of The Anxiety about a world that is now made of ingredients we can't pronounce. Our world is now made of very different physical stuff than the world of our ancestors, and it makes total sense for panicky reactionaries to blame sexualities, genders, religions, and ways of existence they don't understand on the strange, unprecedented "chemicals" that have intruded into the material components of the world around them.

The material changes to our lives mesh quite nicely with the paranoia of fascism. People, without any scientific expertise that would inform them, decide that "natural" things are good and "artificial" things are bad, and this leads people to reject very simple, comprehensible, and well-understood processes like "heating something up, but not quite to boiling, and letting it cool down" (pasteurization) in favor of "contracting bovine tuberculosis."

But it's not that natural is good and artificial is bad, it's that natural is, at least in theory, understandable, and artificial is bound only to the laws that tell DuPont it must disclose what is in a product being sold and test the product for harms to human and animal life—and the power of those laws to actually control DuPont. Hemlock and nightshade can be recognized and avoided, but a Product emerges from an Amazon Prime box in a curiously sterile afterbirth of plastic and foam, stinking of acrid VOC's that some people enjoy in the form of the "new car smell."

And we know that nature has no shortage of things that kill us that we CAN'T readily detect with our senses, like lead and uranium, but before mining for coal and metals ripped open our Earth and pumped thousands upon thousands of tons of toxic waste up from its depths, any given creek or patch of dirt in Eastern Kentucky was at least less likely to be dangerously toxic and radioactive.

This definitely fuels the blind and often dangerous urge to go back to a time when things were "simpler." It lubricates the slide down into reactionary bigotry a little bit, this abundance of ways the world has gone Wrong and has been irreparably changed.

It gets harder and harder to say "No, natural is not always good/bad, no, unnatural is not always good/bad" and be listened to. Our world is far, far harder to understand now in some ways, but we have to try, and that's a hard sell.

#chemophobia #environment #fascism

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manykinsmen · 3 months

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i want to talk a little bit about why i think the way nico rosberg is maligned by the world of f1 has a great deal to do with gender, sexuality and queerness. this isn't to say that nico isn't heterosexual and cisgender. we have no reason not to take him at his word in this regard; he understands himself best. what it is to say is that nico rosberg's presence threatens the way in which gender and sexuality is constructed in the wider world of f1, which has ramifications for both individuals within f1 and f1 as an institution.

so we have to talk, therefore, about the "platonic ideal" if you will, of an f1 driver. we all know, that except the bubbles of f1blr and f1tiktok, which fall into more of a "fandom" concept, and are therefore necessarily the domain of women and queer people, motorsports as a whole is a hyper-masculine pursuit as both a participant and a spectator, as is the case with most sports. we might therefore, gravitate towards thinking of this platonic ideal as some kind of super-jacked mega-sports guy. we do have to alter this a little to account for the specifics of f1, which prefers a smaller build, though still muscular, to complement the car. f1 has also long cultivated an aura of elegance to set itself apart from other motorsports series like NASCAR. this is not a diesel-huffing crowd, this is a champagne on yachts crowd. our faves all come out somewhere on the classic hollywood leading man to meterosexual sliding scale. i would volunteer charles leclerc as the best example of this platonic ideal in recent memory. the evidence of this? the amount of "traditional" f1 fans (i.e. men who watch the races and do not engage in fandom) professing an obsession with him.

where does nico fit in in relation to this platonic ideal? on paper, he seems pretty damn close. he's also got a slighter, lither build and also has always carried around an aura of elegance. he was even born and raised in monaco, like charles, whatever his passport says. there's a whole sub-essay i could write on the way that, in so many ways, both within and outside fandom, charles has picked up nico's baton, occupies the space he vacated, but we'll save that post for another day. so if nico is so close to the platonic ideal, why then is he not more celebrated? why then is he regarded with such suspicion? well, we can't micro-analyse his physical features, or pinpoint the source of the feelings he generates in others. not only would this be an exercise in futility, it would also be remarkably close to an exercise in anti-queer eugenics. the answer is that, for whatever reason, the feelings he generates in the traditional, heterosexual, cisgender male audience and participants of f1 are different to the feelings that charles generates.

let's analyse. they're both openly acknowledged to be/have been beautiful, but what's the difference here? well, charles presents in a subtly more masculine way. his haircuts have, since he reached adulthood, typically been shorter and he usually sports some degree of facial hair. nico's hair is often best described as long, for a man, and he's always clean-shaven. charles is also much more gender-conforming in his fashion choices, and more conservative (even when he makes poor choices), whereas nico's fashion choices (especially since leaving f1) are typically much more considered, "put together", and he takes bigger risks with patterns, colours and cuts. he also often carries a bag, which is associated with femininity. it's subtle, but on some occasions we could even make an argument that nico is gender-nonconforming in his fashion choices, at least within a hypermasculine sphere.

why does the way in which they dress and groom themselves matter so much? it's a huge part of how we signal gender and sexuality. susan sontag's notes on "camp" explains this in great detail. camp fashion emerged during the time in which homosexuality was illegal and therefore couldn't be announced publicly. instead it had to be signified somehow. this was achieved through a combination of fashion and mannerisms. camp, then, is even when performed by cisgender heterosexuals, inextricably and viscerally linked to queerness, particularly the queerness of amab individuals. this is because, later, "butch", which achieved the same results by travelling the opposite direction was separated from camp as its own entity. it is therefore a deviation from expected masculinity, and proximate to femininity. in a hypermasculine sphere, the threshold at which camp emerges is much weaker. nico rosberg presents camp. charles leclerc manages to avoid doing so. (side note, since nico retired, lewis hamilton has become much more daring in his own choices and is also finding himself flaunting gender presentation norms in f1. interesting, wouldn't you say?)

but this isn't the only way that nico rosberg has developed an association with queerness. the second way is entirely out of his control - it's the uncomfortable attraction of other men to nico rosberg. again, lets compare nico and charles. whilst plenty of people, fans or those who work in f1, are happy to admit that charles is "handsome", or even "beautiful", the word "pretty" is reserved (again, excepting in fandom spheres) for nico. why is this important? well, charles represents a male fantasy. men want to /be/ charles. even when a few cis-het male fans go as far as to say they have a "man crush" on charles or would make an exception to their heterosexuality for him, it's not a real suggestion. why? well, when these cis-het men say they would sleep with charles, what they mean is that they have mentally attempted to put themselves in the shoes of someone who is attracted to men and then found what they believe to be the best example of a man. charles is the platonic ideal of an f1 driver, he is therefore maximally fuckable, assuming one is attracted to men. for these men, saying that they would fuck charles is the end result of a thought experiment. what they are really saying, in quite a masturbatory fashion, is that they would like to be charles and fuck people.

nico rosberg, however, brings uncomfortable tangibility to this thought experiment. we've already established that nico has an association with femininity and femaleness that charles simply does not. for a heterosexual man, a feminine person is the typical subject of their attractions. nico expresses himself, both in fashion and mannerism, in a similar way to the women that are the object of many heterosexual men's desires. "pretty" is a word that is reserved by heterosexual men for women, and yet, it is/was routinely used about nico rosberg. a small case study in this is jenson button. by his own admission, jenson button had a psychosexual fascination with britney spears. what nickname did he immediately pick up for nico rosberg? britney. (note, i am aware that mark webber is the origin of this nickname, but jenson really took the baton and ran with it out of a few options). not only does this double down on nico's proximity to femininity, it also highlights jenson button's attraction. he doesn't just give him the name of any woman, but the woman he, self-admittedly, desires the most. jenson might be the most flagrant example, but he's not the only one. giving rapid one-word responses to drivers, mark webber gives nico as "pretty". another nickname that emerges for nico is "princess" - again, associated with not only femininity but highly desirable femininity.

so then is it all a big gay panic? while that certainly doesn't help and causes fractious relationships on an individual level. it's actually not the only problem nico rosberg's gender expression poses. to understand the other problem, we have to talk about the entrenched misogyny of f1. the platonic ideal of an f1 driver is, always has been, and will likely continue to be for a very long time, a man. a particular kind of man, as we have understood, but nevertheless, a man who manages, despite the preference for a smaller build and elegance, to skirt around the edges of femininity without touching it. nico rosberg is too close to femininity and worst of all, he is a champion.

one of the most curious things about women in formula 1, is that they are perpetually forgotten. even long-time fans of the sport, are often surprised to discover that there have been five female f1 drivers. it's a truly stunning display of repressed memory. even then, women in the world of f1 are necessarily "butch", simply for their presence within it. with a very small pool of exceptions, to participate seriously in sport as a woman is to be masculinised, voluntarily or otherwise. this is to say nothing of the over-representation of women loving women or women who by personal preference present more butch in sport. even though f1 represses its women as a traumatic memory, when women enter its sphere, they are masculinised, the sport is not feminised, well at least as long as they remain minor players.

nico rosberg's championship immortalises him in the annals of f1. by the rules that they have put in place, he cannot be repressed in the same way that the memory of lella lombardi or maria teresa di fillipis or even mike beuttler (a driver revealed to be gay after his retirement who subsequently died during the AIDS epidemic) can be. the role of champion is meant to be fulfilled by the platonic ideal of an f1 driver (side note, we can read into charles's title of "il predestino" quite a bit here). if it isn't, then it necessarily shifts the platonic ideal and therefore the identity of f1. nico rosberg's championship win represents not just a crisis of sexuality, but a crisis of identity across the entire sport, all of which is tied up in gender presentation. when nico rosberg won, the sport got camper, and it hated that.

to make matters worse, by immediately announcing his retirement for the express purpose of spending time with his wife and then newborn daughter (since then, he has had a second daughter), rather than shrugging off his associations with femininity by leaning into having a title and taking off in pursuit of more, nico doubled down on this. proximity to children, especially day to day, is another thing that typically falls into the domain of femininity, although we are beginning to dismantle this a little bit in the 21st century. however, f1 remains a hyper-masculine space in which its participants are expected, or even demanded, to spend large quantities of time away from any children that they might have. there are no accommodations made for parents on the grid. despite nico's decision to retire, when we reflect upon it, being highly understandable, its associations with femininity add to the impulse to call the decision "cowardly". it is an emasculating decision, and therefore incomprehensible to the hyper-masculine world of f1.

following his retirement, nico's campness only increases. i might speculate here, that part of this is the lifting of pressure to present in a way that people surrounding him in f1 are more comfortable with - you can see that his outfits when he is doing punditry for sky, for example, are much more conservative. nico has been open about not liking who he was when he was putting in serious bids for the f1 championship, and pressures to behave in a more masculine fashion might have formed part of that. likewise, nico goes out of his way to emphasise his relationship and closeness to women and femininity, branding himself as a "girl dad" (we could compare here to kevin magnussen, who is also the father of two daughters whom he clearly cares about very deeply, but hasn't, to my knowledge, referred to himself as a "girl dad". when we consider nico's behaviours post-retirement to be "cringe" we might then want to interrogate which behaviours, exactly, we mean. "cringe" very frequently, is a disguise that misogyny and homophobia wears to be let back into he building.

how does the world of f1 react to this? by attempting to repress nico rosberg. mercedes fails to mention and credit their only other champion besides lewis hamilton, even in the same breath in which they claim closeness and proximity to michael schumacher. fans undermine the validity of his win by implying it was merely the culmination of lewis hamilton's bad luck with regards to car reliability, which not only undermines nico's achievement but so to lewis's (to be truly the best, one must triumph over greatness and skill, not untalented hacks, as many would you have believe). new fans of the sport are often shocked to discover that nico rosberg is in fact a world champion, even though only two drivers have won the title since him, and only one new driver. where nico can't be erased, he is cast in the role of the villain, the way disney villains almost always carry an association with camp and gender nonconformity.

what's the conclusion then? well, it's perhaps not the entire picture of why nico rosberg is so maligned, but gender identity and sexuality are definitely something to think about here. the way he challenges the very strict gender role an f1 driver, and especially a wold champion, is expected to perform is incredibly uncomfortable to both the institution of f1 and individuals operating within it (as fans, or as participants). and maybe, just maybe, we should interrogate the concept of "cringe", which is often used as a to beat those that challenge our expectations in these areas.

#nico rosberg #charles leclerc #f1 #queer theory #feminism #jenson button

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stinkyme · 9 months

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Hello! This is what I mentioned in my poll, I hope you like it and enjoy it! :)

This is slightly different, I wanted to sort of..compromise with genders. Because I feel like experience itself would be different with somebody who identifies as a man versus someone who identifies as a woman, therefore I made sections :)

Also, I wanted to keep it gn! for folks who don't identify as a woman or a man so your part is less sexually explicit :)

Overall, the same things apply to everybody, but I think with people who are men it would hold different intimacy due to the "sinful" aspect of homosexuality whereas women are usually blamed for being sexual at all without bearing a child, etc. :)

CW/TW: NSFW, m/fem/gn!reader (separated), religious setting with sexual acts, priest!Fyodor, body worship, cock worship, praise, mentions of blood kink and knife play, mentions of self pleasure, oral!Fyodor receiving, marking, mentions of psychological and homoerotic (with m!reader) aspects, and if I forgot anything please let me know! :)

I hope it won't be confusing :") Everything is separated and explained accordingly :)

Priest Fyodor || Fyodor Dostoevsky x Reader

Overall headcanons & scenario (applicable to everyone, gn!reader) :

Whether it's just for the sake of a sexual roleplay or Fyodor actually being a priest - Priest!Fyodor adores this idea. Being lustful and sinful in a church with you brings him immense sense of pleasure...therefore - he would probably be the one to bring it up first.

He would make the first step, assuming that the two of you have known each other for a while and that there was a certain intensity between you.

He can sense it for a while now - how your gaze burns under his silky, black robe, practically feeling it on his skin. How your gaze lowers when you speak to him so politely and so nicely, as if you are not having all sorts of unholy thoughts inside your head. How you trail over the cross around his neck, as if it holds no meaning or weight when compared to your own desires.

Watching his fingers slide over the Bible he holds, only to imagine what those fingers could do to you. The way you look at him makes him, just for a moment, forget about God or a place he is supposed to preach as pure and holy.

At that very moment, when your gaze trails over his clothed body, he can sense that you wish to know what his skin feels like. What he feels like when he is not the voice of a good Christian. Who he really is, under all of those easily removable layers of false christianity; who he is in his primal.., animalistic core even.

He will return your gaze just as lustfully, making your desire to cross over an invisible boundary even higher. Just for one second. It feels forbidden and it feels wrong, but does that really mean anything to an average human who knows that it will feel so good? Who knows that it will feel wrong but who can even think about it when pleasure overwhelms you? Both of you knew it means nothing compared to what you desire. You were already "bad" christians, after all.

Finally, being alone with him for the first time. Church is awfully quiet, only filled with unspoken desires. Tension is heavy and your thoughts become heavier to bear. Fyodor feels the same way, but he also wants to test his own luck. Finally making a first move.

Divided by a wooden wall and little window, he will ask you to confess your sins. Or simply, let out anything that may lay heavy on your chest. As if it was that easy and simple.

You may start off with something irrelevant just to alter your actual "sin".

He doesn't have time for this. Or patience.

Good christian you will say.

"Tell me, Y/N, how do you see me?" he cuts you off and asks very calmly, his voice like honey. You take a look at him through a little window, his gaze is inviting and anything but one of a priest.

"As a good christian." you chuckle, trying to move the conversation to the actual issue here or, at last, to ease up the tension.

"I figured you would say that." he lets out a pitiful chuckle.

"Anything but that. Tell me, how do you see me?" he is persistent, his gaze and voice even more inviting now. Challenging. How far would you go for him?

"As a good man." you reply in a simple manner, trying to contain every other thought that is currently overflowing your mind.

His neck seems soft. So pale. Easy to mark and ruin.

Rest of his body is probably just like that.

If only he could voice all awfully dirty desires with that silky voice of his instead of preaching what keeps you apart from him.

If only he would use those fingers to run them over your bare skin instead of holding a book of nonsense.

"Is that so?" he chuckles.

"What if I told you I am anything but a good christian, yet alone a good man?" he asks, certain slyness glowing in his eyes. His own desires were breaking through. You could almost touch them. Almost.

"Why would you say that?" you ask, faking innocence as always. He stands up, leaving his part of the confessional while remaining silent. You get out of your part, observing him in slight confusion.

He locks the door of the church, slowly walking back to you. You know a choice awaits you.

Read this if you identify as a woman or are afab who is okay with mentions of female experience (for men and folks who want full gn!reader experience, scenarios go below this one) :

How far are you ready to go for him? Are you ready to completely abandon your religion and beliefs? What about shame? Guilt? You are a woman for the fuck sake. You will be dirty. Can you bear the sin of being a bad woman? Can you allow yourself to be intimate with him in a church? Can you allow yourself such a forbidden pleasure that was never yours to begin with? Why are you acting as if you had rights for selfish pleasure? Pleasure that holds no fruition of a child with a man with whom you have more lust than love? Why are you acting so arrogant as if you have any rights to pleasure? Why are you acting as if his name hasn't spilled each time your orgasm was at its peak? Hell knows.

Read this if you identify as a man or if you are amab who is okay with male + mlm experience :

How far are you ready to go for him? Are you ready to completely abandon your religion and beliefs? What about shame? Guilt? You are a man for the fuck sake. You will be dirty. Do you have what it takes to live with it? To be intimate with a man? Right here? In front of all those holy eyes? How far can you go? Is this a test? If you resist now, will you go to Heaven? What Heaven? Haven't you already sinned, just by having desires for him? Haven't you already sinned by thinking about him anytime your hand was filled with cum while his name slipped your lips? Hell knows.

Read this for the continuation of the main story + gn!reader experience :

How far are you ready to go for him? Are you ready to completely abandon your religion and beliefs? What about shame? Guilt? Did you really know any? Why are you acting as if you haven't already played into your desires when you were alone? Imagining him doing everything you did to yourself, is it not sinful already? Why are you acting like you are a good christian when every single saint already knows what you are scared to admit? Will God stop you now? Will church go down in flames just to stop you from sinning? Is that what would stop you? Hell knows.

"I think we both already know what this is about." he whispers, putting the keys on a random bench as he finally gets close to you. You swallow knowing your decision was already made.

"And frankly, I also think you know why I am a bad man..or rather, a bad christian. Same reason as you are." he whispers, his fingertips touching your cheeks for the very first time. You can feel a burning knot forming inside your tummy, a light gasp escaping your lips. He moves his fingertips over your lips, slowly dragging them down and watching your bottom lip follow. You are stuck in place, feeling as if you move you will ruin everything. Your heart is beating fast and your skin grows hotter as he moves his fingertips over your chin, moving them lower and finally touching your neck.

NSFW (gn!reader), mixture of scenario & headcanons:

"Keys are right there, if you wish to leave." he says in a soft, almost desperate tone as this is the very last thing he wants to happen. His fingers trail over your neck, his thumb separating from the rest of his fingers as he wraps them all around your throat, holding it gently. You are not blinking, your gaze is fixated on his face. His head is tilted and lips are parted; he looks blissful.

His index finger gently caresses the skin below your ear and you just notice how cold his hands are.

You finally move, bringing your own hand to his face, sliding your fingers over a face that you should never touch with such desires. Stepping closer to him, your other hand slides over his chest, barely feeling them over the robe.

You slide your hand down, so close to his cock.

One little movement and it's over. You can still take an offer to leave.

No.

You look at him hesitantly, but he takes your hand with his and moves it where both of you wish. You gasp in while he is incredibly calm. You can feel his hard cock on your fingertips, robe barely hiding the outline of it. He pulls you by your throat, his lips brushing over yours. Your eyes tear up from the intensity of your desire and feelings as you grasp his cock, making him gasp out. He squeezes your throat with equal pressure that you squeezed his cock with.

Everything is so slow, but so fast at the same time. You look into his eyes for the very last time, before gasping out and leaning your face even closer to him. Your lips are touching. You close your eyes and he follows, his lips capturing yours as his tongue slips inside your mouth, gently brushing over yours. You can feel a knot dissolving inside your tummy and spreading all over your body, making you needy for more. Fyodor starts breathing more heavily, a few snivels slipping out of his throat and getting muffled inside the kiss.

Quickly enough, your kiss grows more primal, your bodies grow more incoherent and only desire to get each other naked remains.

Priest!Fyodor wants everything as soon as you are naked in front of each other. He pushes you to the ground, making you kneel in front of him.

"Only God you need right now is me. Only one you need to satisfy now is me." he says in a sly and lickerish tone as he grabs your hair and pulls you towards his aching cock.

He wants you to worship him. To worship his cock like a good whore and a bad christian. You will kiss his balls, completely driven by pure desire. Licking the edge on the bottom side of his cock up to his tip. Kissing your way back - from the tip down to his balls. Putting the tip of his cock inside your mouth while kneeling on cold tiles of the church floor and twirling your tongue around it. All while he whimpers shamelessly and encourages you to go deeper.

You choke on his cock, completely oblivious to everything else. Moving your head back and forth while your tongue reaches all of his sensitive spots. He will praise you and only praise you need is his. He will tell you how good you are doing for him. How you are satisfying the one you are supposed to.

Priest!Fyodor wants you to worship his body too. To leave sinful kisses everywhere that your lips can reach. He wants to feel your tongue slide over every sensitive or less sensitive part of his skin. He wants you to make him feel as if he is the only one who exists for you in the moment. As if he is the only one who can make you feel the way he does. He wants to worship your body too. Kissing every part of it, learning what your body prefers and where you may be the most sensitive. He wishes to kiss every single spot until he learns them all. From your forehead and cheeks, over your neck and behind your ears, down to your collarbone and chest area, your stomach, waist, hip bones, thighs, calves, ankles - everything. He wishes to make up for every single time he wasn't able to appreciate you the way you both desired. He wants your and his body to be filled with invisible bites and kisses that will burn long afterwards. That will grow more desire for each other. More devotion.

Priest!Fyodor wants you to mark him. Mark his body like he belongs to you and only you. He is not selfish or a lunatic to actually believe he is the one who owns you. He desires mutual devotion. A devotion neither he or you could reach with God.

Whimpers escaping his lips and echoing the big church as your teeth slide his skin between them. Leaving red, purple or blue marks behind all over his body. His neck, his collarbones, his chest, his stomach - it's all yours. All yours to claim and devote to while he devotes to you by giving you his bare body. He wishes to mark your body too if he can. Even if no marks are left behind, he wants the feeling of it. To dig his teeth in your skin and listen to your voice breaking and asking for more of him. He wants to have this and every next moment with you engraved in his skin.

Which is why, Priest!Fyodor wants you to use the knife on him. Not in a violent way. He wants you to leave a few gentle cuts over his body and lick the small amount of blood that is sliding out of the slits you make. To suck on them while he chokes out your name, belonging to you only. He wants to do the same to you. Just make a few cuts so this moment lasts on your skin for a while after. He wants to lick small amount of your blood as well and kiss you afterwards, reaching almost complete devotion.

Priest!Fyodor wants to fuck you senseless in the sacred and holy place. A church throne. He wants you to bend over for him while your knees are on the chair so he can fuck you relentlessly. To the point where no noise can escape your tired throat anymore. For you to reach complete bliss with him, to reach orgasm after orgasm from his cock only. From him only. He wants to make up for each time you had to do it yourself. For each time he had to do it himself. So he will fuck you for as long as he can, completely ignoring how worn out his body is after few hours. He wants to hear his name slip past your lips while his skin slaps into yours each time he thrusts and reaches your sensitive spot.

He will let you have your own control over him soon enough. He promises. Just a little bit more, just a few more times. He can't get enough of you. The way your body shakes under him, the way you are so shameless with calling his name in such a place. The way your fingernails dig into the throne with no remorse or respect. He can't get enough of it. He will be more gentle next time, but now? He just needs to let it all out. All of his primal desires, frustrations, all of the times substitute for you was his "holy" hand. Everything. Priest!Fyodor is insatiable with you; you are his only devotion he wishes to pleasure and satisfy from now on.

The End :)

I hope this wasn't too confusing and that you enjoyed! :) <3

Feedback is appreciated, this is my first time doing this format so I hope I didn't disappoint :") <3

Thank you so much for all love and support! :)

P.S. sub!Jouno soon :3

#fyodor dostoevsky x reader smut #fyodor x reader smut #fyodor x reader #fyodor dostoevsky x reader #fyodor dostoevsky bsd #bungo stray dogs smut #bsd smut #bsd scenarions #bsd headcanons #bsd imagines #fyodor dostoevsky smut #bsd fyodor #fyodor bsd #fyodor bsd smut #bsd fyodor smut #fyodor x y/n #fyodor x you #fyodor dostoyevsky x reader #fyodor dostoyevsky x reader smut

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cringeworms · 6 months

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I'm writing an analysis of gender performativity in The Silence of the Lambs for my gender and sexuality class and in the course of my research I have encountered so many bad takes!! I can't not say anything so I've come to Tumblr to rant.

The most common criticism I see is that the ending of "Hannibal" discredits, undoes, or diminishes Clarice's feminism, autonomy, or power, or that it ruins the message of SOTL. That indicates a complete misunderstanding of Clarice and the point of the books! The point of "Hannibal" is to show that it does not matter how amazing, powerful, or how much of a feminist you are: if you are a woman in a career, especially a federal career, the system is designed to put you down and keep you quiet. I think there is nothing more she could have done and nothing she could have done differently to prevent her disgrace. When the system is set up to put men in power and keep them in power, your talent and integrity do not matter if they decide they don't want/need you anymore. There is nothing she can do to prevent the label of "female officer" from haunting her credibility. Even Crawford, who respects her and fights for her, sees her with the caveat of "woman." The one man who does not consider her gender any sort of detriment or a reason to treat her differently is Hannibal Lecter. They have genuine mutual respect. When she chose to be with him, she chose respect, love, and comfort over a life of fighting to be recognized, respected, or listened to. Just as much as it is respectable for women to fight for their right to be recognized in their careers, we must also recognize that that fight should not need to exist in the first place. So, why should there be any shame about choosing not to fight that fight anymore? She spent years in an uphill battle, and she probably never would have escaped it (to no fault of her own!). The ending of "Hannibal" is Clarice raising a middle finger to the system, the FBI, misogyny, and the patriarchy by recognizing that she deserves unconditional love and respect and that the system she fought so hard for was, in fact, completely undeserving of her talent or presence. Her decision is powerful and empowered!

"She was brainwashed!" she literally wasn't. Hannibal tried that (I believe because he was so unfamiliar with the idea of love or family that he didn't know how to understand Clarice outside of the lens of Mischa) but he was unsuccessful. If she was able to resist his efforts of brainwashing while in an altered state she certainly had the strength of mind to make her own decisions. Her decision was not impulsive. Also, I think it serves as a testament to her influence and power over him. She gained control of the situation and he didn't resist that. Ultimately, Clarice chose to spend the rest of her life with the one man who ever truly saw her as more than just a woman, who admired her intellect, and who respected her enough to challenge her. That is not weak, submissive, or misogynistic. Quite the opposite. She chose to leave behind the life she put years of effort into building (because she knew it would be fruitless) in favor of being finally honored and appreciated. That takes courage! She knew her worth, and she knew the FBI didn't deserve her.

Also, anyone who paid any attention to the books saw the romantic tension throughout the story. It didn't come out of nowhere. She really just needed an opportunity or an excuse to be with him, and she was finally presented with it.

I think reading the ending to "Hannibal" as anything other than empowering is a mischaracterization of both Clarice and Hannibal and shows a lack of understanding of the message of the books. I think it reflects a shallow understanding of not only the books, but of how feminism operates IRL (especially during the 80s/90s).

I also must give the disclaimer that I do not think these books are epitomes of feminism or representation. The transmisogyny, racism, queerphobia, etc., are obviously inexcusable. Just because I interpret their message as a story of caution about how misogyny operates, and how it is respectable to choose a path that does not work within that system, does not mean I agree with everything presented in them or any of their harmful rhetorics or stereotypes. I have a STRONG love/hate relationship with these stories and I don't ever mean to undersell the "hate" part of that lol.

#wanna talk about bad endings? lets talk about the hannibal MOVIE!#ok this post sounds a little bitchy but I'm not trying to be argumentative I'm just way too invested in this lol #the silence of the lambs #silence of the lambs #sotl #hannibal book #hannibal books #hannibal movie #thomas harris tetralogy #thomas harris books #thomas harris #clarice starling #sotl analysis #clannibal #clarice x hannibal #hannibal x clarice #I'm also peeved by the whole “breastfeeding kink ew weird” claim like cmon #that is the tamest kink ive ever heard of #in this context i find it kinda wholesome tbh

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anameistoohard · 2 months

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Oh boy, lets open that can of worms

There's a LOT of discourse with endo vs anti-endo stuff (endogenic system=plural system not formed by trauma if you don't know 🙂). Like, death threats coming from both sides kinda thing. We try to stay out of it. But it's easy to accidentally stumble into it if you're not familiar with some of the nuance. So we want to share some observations as like, a crash course. (And apparently we had a lot to say lol.)

This post isn't really to debate how plurality forms. Just to give some context as to why so much hate is flying between these two groups.

Basically, you have 2 extremes. (And everyone in between obviously)

On one side you have people making up extra rules on top of the diagnostic criteria to exclude and gatekeep anyone who doesn't meet "their level" of disordered. (I've literally heard people say "you can't be a system, you're not as traumatized as me"). A lot of accusations of faking come from this bunch. Too much internal communication? Faker. Too many non-human alters? Faker. Too many or not enough alters? Faker. You can't win with them even if you have a diagnosis.

We've noticed a lot of parallels between this group and transmeds. You need to have x level of dysphoria to ride this ride. You can't be trans if you don't want xyz treatment. You need to reach my arbitrary bar of "trans enough". Enbys and everyone else are fakers. That kind of bs.

But on this side you also have a lot of people who just want to be taken seriously. They want to be validated by their diagnosis and feel hurt when people say or do things that they think will compromise that validity. They, at least initially, come from a place of sincerity not malice. But they fall into the trap of trying to be "one of the good ones".

On the other extreme you have the wild west. Things people treat as fact aren't codified with the same scrutiny as the DSM-5 or ICD-11. This breeds its own confusion and misinformation. We've seen people conflate plurality with things like maladaptive day dreaming, lucid dreaming, adhd, and (applying it to other people with ferocity to the point of harassment) metaphors of all things.

They have a spaghetti at the wall approach that reminds me of a less extreme MOGII (an attempt to define just about every possible form of gender and sexuality). It's a messy patchwork of ideas. We've seen 8 different labels that all mean the same thing and are being used by exactly no one. Redundancy and hyperspcificity, that's the name of the game. But frankly we like this if for no other reason than we want to see what sticks, what becomes mainstream.

We've seen people from this group attack people as badly as the anti-endo group. Openly mocking people for having trauma or saying vile shit like "traumagenics kys". They feel threatened by the exclusionary nature of diagnoses. But instead of taking their frustration out on the systems of power they take them out on normal people. After all if you're diagnosed, you "represent the system"... I guess. Equally bull shit.

But this is also where the edge cases go, the exclusions, those that don't fit into a neat little box. The DSM excludes people whose plurality is accepted as part of their culture or religion. These people don't suddenly stop being systems just because they're accepted, but they're distinctly not disordered. They don't meet the clinical definition of DID or OSDD. Same goes for someone whose symptoms are mild enough to not cause "clinically significant distress". You also have people who don't want to be pathologized or have been failed by the medical system.

So lastly, a warning: When dealing with plural stuff, it's very easy to go stumbling into a mine field.

Tldr: I would always rather land on the side of letting too many people in than exclude people who needed the support. However, no matter your in-group, some people take things too far. Like, ffs don't attack people.

-Taylor & Mark

#not giving this any proper tags cause I don't want a fucking maelstrom of hate coming at us lol #long post #this might be a bad idea

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gatheringbones · 1 year

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[“In a 2019 tweet (since deleted), Twitter user Brooke wrote of ‘carving “trans” into every bone of my body so when they find my skeleton in two hundred years they don’t get too confused’. A reply parodied the response of an oblivious archaeologist: ‘We must be careful not to jump to conclusions about what these ancient carvings could have meant; This individual could have had a passion for mass transit, transcontinental travel, or a combination of poor spelling and a love of trance music’.

Every time I read jokes like this, I get a jolt of hurt and defensiveness: not all historians and academics are like that! I try so hard, every day, not to do the kind of history they’re talking about! And yet I can hardly blame these people for talking and writing the way they do. The fact is that the discipline of history is set up to erase queer lives, and particularly trans lives. We are expected to adhere to double standards of evidence, which encourage us to state with impunity that a historical figure was definitely cis, but to hedge with caveats the suggestion that they were maybe, possibly trans; to use phrases like ‘cross-dresser’ or ‘impersonator’ as if they’re neutral, and to write lengthy defences of ourselves if we decide to avoid them; to expect backlash from colleagues and reviewers if we choose to use any pronouns for a historical figure other than those associated with the gender they were assigned at birth; to say, like the caricatured archaeologist above, ‘We must be careful not to jump to conclusions’, even when the evidence for trans experience is actually abundantly conclusive. It hurts when people memeify the oblivious, transphobic ‘historian’, but it’s also not unfair of them to do it. History, while it may not perpetuate physical harm, still repeatedly enacts violence against trans lives in the past and the present. And it’s not the job of the communities we’ve hurt to give us the benefit of the doubt: it’s our job to convince them that historians can be different.

In this book, I’ve identified new ways, and new places, to look for trans history. I’ve argued for the presence of trans experience in histories of gender-nonconforming fashion; histories of gender-nonconforming performance; and histories of people taking on a social role that isn’t associated with the gender they were assigned at birth. I’ve shown that many trans histories are inextricable from histories of other experiences: the sexual, the intersex, the anti-patriarchal, the spiritual. I’ve argued both for acknowledging trans possibility in histories of widespread gender nonconformity that have previously been explained in other ways, and for understanding gendered histories on their own terms – including seeing them, where necessary, as both trans history and the history of other kinds of people and experiences.

In this last kind of history in particular, I’ve often been confronted by what writer and philosopher Hil Malatino (quoting fellow scholar Abram J. Lewis) calls the ‘irreducible alterity’ of people in the past: the fact that some histories of gender are not possible to map onto or relate to the way people experience gender today. Malatino characterises the acknowledgement of this ‘irreducible alterity’ as a form of care for those past people, an idea that speaks deeply to me. It struck me, when I first read it, how different this framing of ‘care’ was from the arguments historians more commonly make against describing people in the past as trans: that it is presentist, that it is anachronistic, that it inappropriately fixes past people in modern categories. These arguments have rarely seemed to me to come from a place of care for people in the past; instead their priority seems to be history or historiographical methodology as an abstract, faux-objective entity. Still more rarely do they seem to acknowledge the concurrent urgency of caring for people in the present: the people who are living now, experiencing and articulating their gender in manifold ways and drawing strength from the histories of people who have done the same. Might it not be possible to find ways of recognising the essential difference of people in the past – people who disrupted gender before we were trans – while simultaneously holding space for the feelings of identification with them held by people in the present, the people who are trans now?”]

kit heyam, from before we were trans: a new history of gender, 2022

#kit heyam #trans literature #history stuff #gender stuff #currently reading

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thecorvidforest · 9 months

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most singlets and even some systems seem to have this idea that all DID/OSDD systems must be miserable all the time. i’ve seen some people go so far as to claim that you must suffer constantly and despise your plurality in order to be valid - so here are some things i love about being a system!

i love the bonds i share with the other alters in our system! i love how we are made to compliment each other, even when we fight. i love how we understand each other so deeply just by nature of existing.

i love how our talents and interests and passions vary! we have so many different things that bring us joy. i love fronting to see art that other alters have made! i love hearing infodumps and fun facts from other alters about their special interests and hyperfixations!

i love that we protect each other! not all of us have the ability or capacity to stand up for ourselves, but the protectors are always ready to defend us and our space. i love knowing that no matter what, we are protected by ourselves.

i love our community! the DID/OSDD has its problems, but all communities have problems. there’s a depth of understanding and respect for our experiences in our community that’s so validating. we look out for each other and i think that’s beautiful.

i love our relationship with gender and sexuality! no two of us experience gender and sexuality exactly the same way, and i think that’s beautiful. we’re a very very queer system and having so many different perspectives and experiences and relationships with our queerness is beautiful!

i love hanging out and having movie nights or game nights or other activity nights without actually having to set things up, because we can just do it whenever we want! i love watching movies and hearing everyone’s commentary!

i love how we all express ourselves differently! our fashion tastes are all different, our mannerisms vary, our appearances and voices are different. i love seeing the various ways we express ourselves!

i love the support we have for each other! we have our fair share of alters with self-destructive or outwardly destructive traits, but we support and love each other unconditionally. we teach each other to love ourselves not just as a system but as individuals! we are actively helping each other learn and grow and heal, and it’s beautiful.

point is, i would never choose to be a singlet if i could. people like to focus on our suffering and tell us fusion is the only route to healing, but we can heal and be joyful without wanting to be a singlet! our joy deserves to be seen too.

feel free to add on if you’re a system!

#this isn’t discounting the struggles we go thru btw!#this is an appreciation post for the joy we experience #dissociative identity disorder #did system #osdd #other specified dissociative disorder #osdd 1a #osdd 1b #did osdd #system positivity #ramcoa #ramcoa survivor #cult survivor #avian’s posts

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simplypluraldesigns · 4 months

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Any SP folder ideas for someone where folders like roles (too many hyperspecific roles) or introjects (too many sources & usually only 1 or 2 per source) doesn't work much? We have been dabbling in possibly making a hierarchy folder since we're hierarchical, but all we have right now are subsystems (group kind) & birthdays.

Also any ideas for making it look nice and best way to put things in what order? I know I've seen some have something like

Information Folder: SystemInfo, AlterInfo

Extras Folder: Disorders

Interaction Folder: Free to Interact, Only Interact if We Initiate First

And so forth.

I've created a layout with everything I could think of that might be useful for organization. I know you mentioned roles/sources not working well but I kept those in incase anyone else would find it useful to have.

I'm not entirely sure about the disorders folder as I would assume that's just a role thing for alters that hold the disorders. If there's anything I missed that you can't figure out how to add from this design let me know.

I wasn't sure how to portray different layers of folders so I hope these arrows make sense to show what would go in what folder. Also the folders will not be in that order when you make them as I didn't alphabetize them here. I wasn't sure how you would design the folders so feel free to use symbols, numbers, letters, emojies, etc to get them in an order you like.

╰┈➤ Alter Info

╰┈➤ Roles

╰┈➤ Sources

╰┈➤ Fragments

╰┈➤ Activity

╰┈➤ Active

╰┈➤ Dormant

╰┈➤ Interaction

╰┈➤ Safe to Interact

╰┈➤ Interact with Caution

╰┈➤ Do Not Interact

╰┈➤ Characteristics

╰┈➤ Genders

╰┈➤ Sexualities

╰┈➤ Romantic Orientation

╰┈➤ Amory

╰┈➤ Species

╰┈➤ Ages

╰┈➤ Alter Types

╰┈➤ Brainmade

╰┈➤ Introject

╰┈➤ Regressors

╰┈➤ Age Regresses

╰┈➤ Pet Regresses

╰┈➤ Verbality

╰┈➤ Extra

╰┈➤ Split Dates

╰┈➤ Birthdays

╰┈➤ Front Status

╰┈➤ Has Fronted

╰┈➤ Has not fronted

╰┈➤ Will not front

╰┈➤ Sign Offs

╰┈➤ Has Sign Off

╰┈➤ Does Not

╰┈➤ Profile

╰┈➤ Fully Filled Out

╰┈➤ Missing Info

╰┈➤ Updates Needed

╰┈➤ System Info

╰┈➤ Hosts

╰┈➤ Co-Hosts

╰┈➤ Frequent Fronters

╰┈➤ Subsystems

╰┈➤ Side Systems

╰┈➤ Layers

╰┈➤ Innerworld Housing

╰┈➤ Groups

╰┈➤ Social Groups

╰┈➤ Role Groups

╰┈➤ Families

╰┈➤ Romantic Relationships

#cdd system #did osdd #did system #did/osdd #osdd #osddid #polyfrag system #osdd system #pdid system #pdid #simply plural #system stuff #simply plural layout

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thelostgirl21 · 10 months

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A celebration of Joey Batey offering TV show writers a pure masterclass on how to write a queer character with a queer audience in mind.

Can I just say how much respect and appreciation I have for Joey, that he went above and beyond in term of queer representation, by bringing some much needed attention towards people on the aromantic spectrum, and making gender a complete romantic/sexual (and even queerplatonic) non-issue?

I mean, imagine that you are part of a show with a young and powerful canonically bisexual lead, Ciri, who is at an age where people might start exploring their own sexuality, slowly figuring out who and what they like, etc.

And suddenly, you're offered to also be playing another queer lead character, with a male love interest - while knowing it will be the very first time that the audience will be officially introduced to the idea of Jaskier being queer...

And, instead of going with the more familiar, and often expected:

"A man that's always been with women before, now finds himself romantically and sexually attracted to a man, and starts questioning his own sexual identity..." coming out story...

You find yourself with a unique opportunity to go a bit further, to explore more specific and lesser known LGBTQ+ themes, and to delightfully surprise your queer audience!

You can take a full dive into the wonderful world of Queerdom, by exploring a different - yet just as equally important and significant - coming out story!

i.e.

"A usually aromantic person, that has always experienced squishes, smushes, and possibly meshes before, finds himself experiencing a (sapio)romantic crush for the very first time, and starts questioning his romantic identity..."

Of course, a lot of people in the audience will probably miss this.

The monosexuals that have been conditioned to believe that gender must always play a role in how one experiences romantic and sexual human attraction - will likely be paying more attention to how Jaskier is showing an interest in a man.

People that are used to equating "falling in love" with "romantic attraction", might miss the significance and importance of Vespula specifically using the word crush to refer to Jaskier's current attraction towards Radovid.

People that typically see non-gender-related orientations as "mere preferences", or have simply never heard of them, might miss how Jaskier goes on and on about how "emotionally intelligent and insightful Radovid is" , with a look of vulnerability and wonder, putting emphasis on how different he feels about him.

People that were taught to see emotional relationships according to the "platonic vs romantic" binary - with a strict idea of what each means and implies - may not be familiar with what queerplatonic relationships are, and will interpret Jaskier saying that he loves Geralt "platonically" as meaning that he's not as deeply and strongly in love with him as one might usually expect a romantic partner to be.

They'll be unaware that there are committed life partners out there - that would go to the end of the world for each other and perhaps even share sexual intimacy together - that don't have any romantic feelings for each other whatsoever.

Romance does not mean "being in love", romance means "being in love in a romantic way".

And it is not the only way.

To aromantics and greyromantics - and even to romantic people that also have the capacity to fall in love in non-romantic ways, such as yours truly - queerplatonic and alterous relationships aren't "lesser than" romantic ones, they are different.

And Radovid... is different.

Radovid is no better, nor worse, than a hammer...

But he's a spoon.

He's a romantic connection that is completely new, exciting and intriguing to explore for Jaskier!

According to Joey Batey, as a sapioromantic panromantic pansexual, Jaskier finds himself developing a strong sapioromantic and sapiosexual connection with Radovid.

Jaskier is representing people that aren't romantically or sexually affected by a partner's gender in the way that they experience sexual atttraction, and people that experience a lot of tertiary attraction when falling in love, while very seldom ever being able to love others in a romantic way (sapioromantics / greyromantics... ).

Jaskier is a queer character that was truly created with a queer audience in mind!

He was created so that all of us that don't see or experience love according to the platonic vs romantic binary.

All of us that are hyperaware of those other forms of attraction (tertiary, aesthetic, sensual, etc.) that one can experience for another human being.

All of us that don't see or experience romance or sexuality as something that ties into their partner's gender.

Could finally see themselves in a character on screen.

Of course, you still need characters that experience their sexuality while feeling like the gender of their romantic and sexual partners matters - including those that love all genders... Desperately so!

First, because all members of the queer community matter and are equally as important and valuable. Rejoicing over Batey diving into lesser known and familiar representation doesn't mean that familiar and better known representation should not be encouraged and celebrated as well!

This is not a "there should be less gay character on TV to make room for more aromantics and asexuals instead" post.

This is a "we need queer identities people are less familiar with in addition to proper gay, lesbian and bisexual representation" post.

And second, because you still need characters that don't stray too much from the platonic v.s. romantic binary, too - and the usual social conventions tied to romance and sexuality - so that non-queer audiences can more easily connect, and empathize with, the queer community.

Because, when the existence of bisexuality already is something that monosexual people often have a hard time understanding, acknowledging, or even believing in...

Well, going:"By the way, I'll have you know that you can totally want to have sex with, live, and raise children with someone you've got platonic feelings for, too!"

You might accidentally lose them.

And if you try to explain that some people are unable to romantically connect with anyone, unless they get specifically attracted to their intellect (often combined with their aesthetic looks)!

That's likely going to be even worse!

And this is where Batey's pure genius comes to light.

Because he's just shown that you can find a beautiful and organic way to explore queerness more in depth - totally stepping away from the usual relationship conventions and specifically addressing your queer audience - simply by using a vocabulary that said queer audience will understand and connect with.

You can make it clear that the character is on the greyromantic spectrum, by having Vespula state that she's never ever seen him with a crush before!

You can put the emphasis on him being more specifically sapioromantic, by having him dreamily go on about how Jaskier perceives Radovid's intellect.

And, if Batey is to be believed - and he's been exploring the idea of Jaskier being queer since the very beginning of the show (without any clear response from the writers or producers regarding Jaskier's sexuality) - then, by making it clear that he loves Geralt platonically in Season 3, he's also allowing us to revisit all the scenes between Jaskier and Geralt from Season 1, while enjoying them through an aromantic lense.

Someone on the aromantic spectrum watching that scene might thus find themselves deeply connecting with the strong platonic squish (although it could also be a mesh) that Jaskier immediately experienced the very first time he saw Geralt...

You can see Jaskier as specifically believing himself to be Geralt's best friend in the whole wide world, and instinctively reading into Geralt allowing him to physically/sensually touch him (rubbing chamomile onto his lovely bottom) as him possibly desiring a queerplatonic connection with him also.

And, the scene where he's suggesting to Geralt that they could get away for a while, head to the coast together...

Where he mentions that life is too short not to do what pleases you, and admits that he's trying to work on what pleases him...

Look, the fact is that there's always been aromantic and greyromantic people experiencing tertiary forms of love and attractions for other people long before we had any words to put on those emotions, desires and needs.

So, it's rather easy to see Jaskier as someone that is experiencing a powerful alterous attraction for his best friend, and realizing that what pleases him the most, is the idea of them sharing a queerplatonic or alterous relationship together...

It makes sense to interpret what Jaskier is saying as him trying to express and articulate the love he feels for Geralt the best he can - implying that Geralt is what pleases him - while trying to ask Geralt if he also feels the same way...

Sadly, Geralt doesn't quite get it; likely because he's also romantically and sexually attracted to Yennefer and, when he loses her, instinctively throws all his own hurt and heartbreak at Jaskier - blaming him for everything that (he believes) lead to that loss!

And just because the break up Jaskier experienced wasn't a romantic one doesn't make it any less devastating.

Poor loving bard was making plans for them to continue to travel and enjoy their time together as the platonic boyfriends he believed them to be, and Geralt told him that all Jaskier had to offer him was a giant pile of shit that he kept shoveling his way!

There's been a lot of alterous and/or queeplatonic subtext since Season 1 (that could also read as romantic, but should never be used as evidence or proof of romance if we were talking about a real life partnership).

And, while I do acknowledge that queerbaiting has been messing with our ability to perceive and appreciate those relationships as such, I do think that, canonically establishing Jaskier as a sapioromantic, at the very least, clearly addresses the reasons why Jaskier was behaving in such an amorous way with Geralt without being romantically in love with him.

For once, instead of mocking the queer audience for "having mistakenly read two same-gender close friends as being romantically attracted to each other" (while doing as much as they can to suggest romance to keep them hooked!), they are canonically establishing Jaskier as a sapioromantic, with him experiencing his first romantic crush with Radovid.

The show's dialogue is telling people on the aromantic spectrum that "Yes, Jaskier is one of you. He gets squishes, meshes, lushes, and can desire a queerplatonic relationship with a best friend he's got strong platonic feelings for also."

You can speak to your queer audience, without fully risking alienating your non-queer audience, by simply using clues, and a language that your queer audience understands.

And I will forever be grateful to Joey Batey for having understood it, and having so skillfully managed it.

As someone who is ambiamorous, panalterous, panromantic, demisexual, and pansexual, all the nuances and details he brought to Jaskier's queerness was a pure delight, and spoke to me in a way that no TV show character has ever spoken to me before (except, perhaps, in "Sense8", but the whole show itself was about what it meant to love and be human, with main characters sharing a supernatural psychic bond making them more likely to open themselves to all the queer forms of love... whereas shows like "The Witcher" is of a more mainstream fantasy show).

I wish I had a way to contact him to tell him thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for breaking gender boundaries, and "platonic vs romantic" boundaries with Jaskier, and offering us a character that is one of the purest, most beautiful, and most perfectly balanced love song to queerness that one could have written and sung about!

Jaskier is a queer representation groundbreaking masterpiece on a show such as this.

That representation is as intelligent, insightful, and sharp as Prince Radovid himself.

And Extraordinarily Things said more about Jaskier's feelings, issues, and vulnerabilities than any piece of dialogue ever could have, and had me weeping my eyes out by the time Jaskier sang about how he finally felt like he was enough...

Well done Joey, you absolutely brilliant and deeply empathetic real-life bard and poet, well done...

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