#it really makes me feel weird having to affirm that i identify as a girl because | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

local-toothbrush · 11 months

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Something I've noticed a lot lately is people I know picking up some kind of craft as a hobby and then deciding to create an "art account" on social media for it. I want to talk about this phenomenon with love and with no judgment towards them personally or their art/crafts.

This is a distinct phenomenon from people who identify themselves as Serious Artists (study art in school or on their own, have another portfolio of some kind, and/or aspire to make art professionally or in some formally published capacity, etc) creating an account to promote their work. I really mean it when I say they've taken up creating art or crafts simply as a hobby (no disrespect, this is a great thing to do).

I guess I'm confused about the urge to share on social media if you're not practicing the craft in a serious way or aim to have a professional online presence. What happened to just showing your friends when you see them? Or texting a picture? Or even just doing it for yourself without going out of your way to share it? Its weird to me that sharing your art/creations with people you know now takes this impersonal detour so that they share their support for you in a comments section instead in-person or in a personal text chat.

I'm wondering why this is. First of all, the curation of such an account itself can be another type of hobby. We all remember the Aesthetic Blog era on tumblr, where everyone wanted to make their own meticulously curated and manicured ~aesthetic experience~. In a way, this is similar to scrap booking or collage making and it is its own creative outlet.

But it not all of these accounts do seem to have a curated aesthetic. So what then?

There is almost a social pressure to make accounts dedicated to this sort of thing. It also applies to some types of fitness accounts I guess. (But I think mental or physical health recovery/journey accounts don't fall into this category, as they serve a different function in the world.) People are often inspired to take up a certain hobby because of social media accounts that are dedicated to it. Creating one's own account is a sort of way to enter into parasocial interaction with this given community. In a weird way, it can feel like you have to document the things you do on social media in order to make them feel more real or valid. Maybe posting online is a way to hold yourself accountable to actually working on your projects or to affirm that your hobby is a valuable use of time.

Another thing is that it can be really scary and vulnerable to show people something you made. Doing it on social media relieves a lot of the pressure from that interaction because you can't directly see anyone's response (facial expression, tone, etc) and because if they don't respond, it could be because they simply didn't see it (whereas if you texted them, they would be somewhat obligated to acknowledge it).

I'm having a big existential moment about how fucking online everything is. I started knitting because a hot friend I had a crush on knitted and I thought she was so cool. Where has that vibe gone? Lol taking up a hobby because an IRL hot girl does it is better than taking up a hobby because an Instagram girlie does it. At least you can have a conversation about it with the IRL hot girl, not a weird parasocial interaction where you send her an anon or a DM about how she inspired you and she responds saying how touched she is but then you never speak again.

#mp #i really tried to write this in a way that didnt position my self and preferences as superior #im just trying to highlight that i dont understand because my own feelings are different #also apple idk if youre still on tumblr but if you see this #yes you are the hot girl im talking about and no i dont recall actually talking to you about knitting becsuse i think i started a while #after we sorta lost touch but it would have never occurred tk me to try it if not for you doing it #lol

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roseofwisdom · 2 years

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i hate how foundation makes my skin feel, or really any kind of makeup can just feel weird and not right. except lipstick, which always feels incredible and powerful and fun. although eye makeup does kinda irritate, it isnt as bad as something i have to apply over a huge area, and i love how it looks (but im awful at eyeliner ;_;)

so in practise i end up wearing pretty much just lipstick or sometimes eye makeup when i go out

but, when i go out i am trying to wear dresses and skirts like ALL the time

rationale being... i could never go outside without pants before... its so LIBERATING...

wearing dresses to me is gender-affirming, but it never feels extremely "femme" to me. i kinda butch dresses somehow. whatever that means? but then i still got the chipped hot pink nail polish on.

im not saying i dont also love wearing womens jeans, i do that all the time at work for example. its the perfect boymode. but honestly if i have the option to not have to wear pants then i totally wont

whether its daisy dukes or skirts or my favorite, that beautiful red dress with the leg slit that i got on spadina!!!!!! ;_; honestly that ones pretty femme at least

when im with my friends i kinda go offfff.... like, do i give off fem or butch vibes? week ago my friend told me i was like a "pretty pink princess" because my nails and my tanktop matched, and there i was just kinda giggling and squealing and stuffing my face in my hands like a four year old girl. but also im like, protective around friends who r shorter than me? i run around in docs and climb fences and tag shit? i am all over the place

i was telling my new friends yesterday about how i was gonna start trying out zi/hir pronouns and it occurred to me that i was inspired in this way by two things

firstly that it reminds me of זי/איר, which are the female pronouns in yidish

secondly that it reminds me of leslie feinberg, who was a tmasc butch lesbian.

the connection to my roots is nice. the connection of pronouns to those of someone on the "other side of the aisle" so to speak is... thought provoking to say the least. it makes me wonder whether id still be trans if i had been a.f.a.b., in that alternate universe.

i love and hate all these words for things. cant i just pick some short chunky title to call myself and forget all the terminological baggage? "hello, im roza. i identify as a bad bitch"

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freddiekluger · 3 years

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Why Cap Being Internally Closeted Is Not Only Possible, But Valid Representation

i wrote this to a lot of mitski and onsind, so you can’t blame me for any feelings that bleed through

now i don’t know if it actually exists, but i’ve heard of there being a lot of discourse surrounding the captains story arc regarding his sexuality- i believe the general gist is that having a queer character that remains closeted to themselves is either unrealistic or ‘bad’ representation, and as someone who really treasures the captain and relates to his story so far a lot, i thought i might break this down a bit.

i’ve divded up every complaint i’ve heard about this into four main questions which i’ll be covering below the ‘keep reading’, because this is gonna be pretty comprehensive. full disclaimer i reference my experiences as an ex-evangelical non binary butch lesbian a couple times, and i spent a year studying repression and the psychological impacts of high demand sexual ethics for my graduating sociology paper, so this is coming with some background to it i swear

the big questions:

can you EVEN be gay and not know it????

but isn't this just ANOTHER coming out arc, and aren't we supposed to be moving beyond those?

but if cap can't have a relationship with a man because he's a ghost, what's the point?

since cap's dead, isn't this technically bury your gays, and isn't that bad?

1. "but is it really possible to not know? Isn't that bad representation?"

short answer: no and no.

before i get into the validity of the captain's ignorance about his own orientation as 21st century rep, let's break down how the hell the captain can be so clearly attracted to men and still not even consider the possibility that he might be gay, as brought to you by someone who literally experienced this shit.

the captain's particular situation is both a direct result of the lack of information around human sexuality he would have had (aka clear messaging that it's actually possible for him to be attracted to men. i don't mean acceptable or allowed, i mean physically capable of happening- the idea that orientations other than heterosexual exist and are available to him, a man), and a subconscious survival mechanism. the environment in which he lives is outright hostile to gay people, while the military man identity he has constructed for himself doesn't allow for any form of deviation from societal norms, let alone one so base level and major. as a result of this killer combo of information and environment, instincts take over and the mind does it's best to repress the ‘deviant’ feelings until a. one of these two things changes, or b. the act of repression becomes so destructive and/or exhuasting that it becomes impossible to maintain. the key to maintaining a long-term state of repression of desire is diverting that energy elsewhere, and a high-demand group such as the military is the perfect place for the captain to do this (this technqiue is frequented by religions and extremist ideologies worldwide, but that’s not really what we’re here to focus on).

while the brain is actively repressing ‘deviant’ feelings (aka gay shit), this doesn't mean you don't experience the feelings at all. when performed as a subconscious act of survival, the aim of repression is to minimise/transform the feelings into a state where they can no longer cause immediate danger, and something as big as sexual/romantic orientation is going to keep popping up, but as long as the individual in question never understands what they’re feeling, they’ll be able to continue relatively undisturbed. you know how in heist movies, the leader of the group will only tell each team member part of the plan so they can’t screw things up for everyone else if they get caught? it’s kind of like that.

this is how the captain appears to have operated in life AND in death, and it’s a relatively common experience for lgbtq people who’ve grown up in similar circumstances (aka with a lack of information and in an unfriendly-to-hostile environment), and accounts for how some people can even go on to get married and have children before realising that they’re gay and/or trans.

personally, while i can now identify what were strong homo crushes all the way back to childhood, at the time i genuinely had no idea. there was the underlying sense that i probably shouldn't tell people how attached i was to these girls because i would seem weird, and that my feelings were stronger than the ones other people used to describe friendships, but like-like them in the way that other girls like-liked boys? no way! actually scratch that, it wasn't even a no way, because i had no idea that i even could. i even had my own havers, at least in terms of the emotional hold and devotion she got from me, except she treated me way less well than cap’s beau. snatches of the existence of lgbt people made it through the cone of silence, i definitely heard the words gay and lesbian, but my levels of informations mirrored those that the captain would have had: virtually none, beyond the idea that these words exist, some people are them, and that's not something that we support or think is okay, so let's just not speak about it. despite only attending religious schools for the first couple years of primary, until i got my own technology and social media accounts to explore lgbtq content on my own- option a out of the two catalysts for change- the possibility of me being gay was not at all on my radar. don’t even get me started on how long it took me to explore butchness and my overall gender, two things which now feel glaringly obvious.

when shit starts to break down, you can also make the conscious choice to repress which can delay the eventual smashing down of the mental closet door for a time (essentially when the closet door starts to open, you just say ‘no thanks’ and shut it again by pointedly Not Thinking About It). in the abscence of identifying yourself by your attractions, it becomes quite common to identify with a lack- in my case, this meant becoming proud of how sensible and not boy crazy i was, and in the captain’s case, this means becoming proud of how sensible and not sensuous/wild (aka woman crazy) he was, identifying with his LACK of desire for women and partying (which, even in the 40s, involved the expectation of opposite sex romances and hook ups). i’m not saying that’s the only reason he’s a rule follower, but i think the contrast between About Last Night and Perfect Day pretty much support this. (the captain getting on his high horse about general party antics that he inherently felt excluded from because of underlying awareness of his difference & his tendency to project his regimented expectations of himself onto others, vs. joining in the reception party, awareness of how the environment supports difference in the form of clare and sam, and relaxing his own rules by dancing with men- the captain doesn’t mind a party when feels like he has a place there.)

so the captain was operating in a high demand, highly regulated environment (primarily the military, but also early 20th century England itself), with regimented roles, rules, and expectations. working on the assumption that he wouldn't have had out/disclosing lgbt friends, he would have had little to no exposure to lgbt identities, and what information he did receive would have been hushed and negatively geared. while my world started to open up when i started high school was allowed to have my own phone + instagram account, resulting in me realising something wasn't quite 'right' within a few years (making me a relatively early realiser compared to those who don't come out to themselves until adulthood), in life the captain never had that experience. he didn't receive the information he needed, his environment didn't grow less hostile. with the near-exception of havers related heartbreak, his well disciplined and lifelong method of repression never became destructive/exhaustive enough to permanently override the danger signals in his mind and allow him to put his feelings into words. neither of the most common catalysts for change happened for him, so he continued as usual, even after his death.

BUT, and here’s where we come to why this is actually great representation, arrival of mike and Alison represents the opening up of new world. for the first time, the captain is actively made aware of the fact that his environment is no longer hostile, and better than that, it’s affirming. he’s also getting access to positively geared information about lgbtq people and identities, so option a of the two catalysts for change is absolutely present, and resoundingly positive.

the captain’s arc is also relatively unique as it acknowledges the oppressive nature of his environment, but actually focuses on the internal consequences, and the way that systems like those that the captain lived in succeed because they turn us into our own oppressors. for whatever reason, we repress ourseslves, and often can’t help it, and i find that the significance of the journey to overcome that is often overlooked in more mainstream queer media. perhaps it’s just not very cinematic, or it remains too confronting for cishet audiences, but ghosts manages to touch on it with a lovely amount of humour and hope. Jamie Babbit’s But I’m A Cheerleader is another favourite piece of queer media for the same reasons.

not only does it show this, but as the captain continues to get gayer and lean into some of his less conventional traits (like an interest in fashion and the wedding planning), it shows lgbt people who have been or are going through this that there CAN be a positive outcome. it takes a lot to unlearn all the things that have painted you as wrong, especially when a massive institution is desperate to continue doing so, but you can do it, you can be happy, and it's never too late. (i've been meaning to say that last point for ages for ages, but a mutual beat me to it here)

2. not just another coming out arc

i absolutely support the demand for queer stories that don’t center around coming out (it’s like shrodinger’s queer: if you’re not coming out on screen, do you really even exist?), but i don’t align with the criticisms that the captain should already be out. for the reasons mentioned above, the captain’s particular story is fairly different to the ‘young white teenager who mostly knows gay is fine, it’s just everyone else that’s got the problem, but have a unremarkably straight sounding soundtrack, a trauma porn romance, and a cishet saviour’ that we keep seeing. the captain’s ongoing journey with his sexuality emphasises the overaching theme of the show: recovering from trauma and humanity’s endless capacity for growth, and i think that’s worth showing over and over again until it stops being true.

additionally, while the captain’s journey regarding his gayness is a big part of his character and story, ghosts makes it clear that it’s not the ONLY part, and being gay is far from his ONLY characteristic or dramatic/comedic engine. the fact that i’m even having to congratulate ghosts for doing that really shows how much film and television is struggling huh.

while all queer media is, and should be, subject to criticism, i think if it helps even one person then it absolutely deserves to exist, and i can say i’ve found the captain’s journey to be the lgbt story i’ve found that’s closest to my own, which says a lot considering he’s a dead world war 2 soldier who hangs out with other ghosts including a slutty Tory, a georgian noblewoman, and a literal caveman.

3. if captain gay, why he no have boyfriend????

another complaint that’s been circulating is that since the captain doesn’t, and likely won’t, have a boyfriend, that makes him Bad Representation because it follows the sad single gay trope. i kind of get the logic from this one, and a lot of it is up to personal interpretation, but part of me really enjoys the fact that the captain’s journey towards accepting himself is separated from having a relationship.

coming out is often paired with having romantic/sexual relationships (either as the reason or reward for doing so). my own struggle with repression didn't end the second that came out, and i still struggle with letting myself develop & acknowledge romantic feelings as a result of actively shutting them (and most other feelings in general) down for years, and statistics show that lgbtq youth in particular tend not to live out their 'teen years' until their twenties. by not giving cap a relationship straight away, ghosts separates the act of claiming identity and sexual orientation from finding a partner (two things which are, more often than not, separate), and also provides some very nice validation to folks who have yet to have the relationship they want, especially when lots of mainstream queer media is now jumping on the cishet media bandwagon of acting as if every person loses their virginity and has a life defining relationship at sixteen. it’s essentially a continuation of the earlier theme of “it’s never too late”, and who’s to say the captain won’t get a gay bear ghost boyfriend to go haunt nazis with??? people die all the time, it could happen.

(also, i think him and julian will have definitely shagged at least once. it was a low moment for both of them and they refuse to speak of it.)

lots of asexual/ace spectrum fans have come out to say how much they’ve loved being able to headcanon cap as ace, and while that’s not a headcanon i personally have, i think it’s brilliant that ace fans feel seen by his character- we’re all in this soup together babey (and sorry for cursing everyone still reading this with that cap/julian headcanon. i’m just a vessel)

4. “okay, but cap’s a GHOST- doesn’t that make this Bury Your Gays?”

this is a bit of a complex one, but i’m going to say no as a result of the following break down.

Bury Your Gays (BYG), aka the trope where lgbtq characters are consistently killed off (and often with a heavy dose of trauma, while cishet characters survive) is probably one of my least favourite lgbt media tropes. BYG has two main points:

1. the lgbt character is killed, thus removing them from story entirely- hence the use of the phrase ‘killed OFF’ (killed off of the show/film)

2. the character’s death reinforces the perception that lgbtq people’s lives must end in tragedy, instead of being long and fulfilling, or are inherently less valuable. bonus points if the character is killed in a hate crime or confesses same-gender love right before they die (that one implies that queer love genuinely has no future!)

not every death of an lgbtq character is bury your gays, and i personally feel that the captain is an example of an lgbt death that isn’t.

first of all, while the captain is dead, so are the vast majority of characters in ghosts. the premise of the show means that death is not the end of the line for its characters- for most of them, it’s the only reason we get to see them on screen at all. as such, the captain being dead doesn’t remove him from the story, so point one is irrelevant.

at the time of posting, we don’t know how or why the captain died, but we've had nothing to suggest his death was in any way related to his latent sexuality, so his mysterious death doesn’t actively play into the supposedly inherent tragedy of queer lives, nor the supposedly lesser value. that’s as of right now- since we don’t know the circumstances of his death it’s a little tough to analyse properly. while the captain’s life absolutely features missed opportunities and it’s fair share of tragedy, hope and growth (which seems to be the theme of this post) abounds in equal measure. the captain may not be alive, but we DO get to see him growing and having a relatively happy existence, that for the most part seems to be getting even better as he learns to open up and be himself unapologetically- that doesn’t feel like BYG to me.

while writng this, it’s just occured to me that death really is a second chance for most of the ghosts, especially with the introduction of alison. from mary learning to read, to thomas finding modern music, they’ve all been given the chance explore things they never could have while they were alive, and hopefully grow enough to one day be sucked off move on.

in conclusion,

i love the captain very much and i hope his arc lives up to the standards it’s set so far. i don’t know where to put this in this post, but i’d alo like to say i LOVE how in Perfect Day, the captain wasn’t used as an educational experienced for fanny at all. i am very tired of people expecting me to be the walking talking homophobe educator and rehabilitator, so the fact that it’s alison and the other ghosts that call fanny out while the captain just gets to have fun with the wedding organisation made me very happy.

here’s a few other cap posts that i’ve done:

the captain’s arc if adam and the film crew stayed

a possible cap coming out

the captain backstory headcanon

if you’ve read this far,

thank you!

also check out @alex-ghosts-corner , this post inspired me very much to write this

#i subluxed all my fingers and wrists doing this but worth it #bbc ghosts #bbc ghosts headcanon #bbc ghosts analysis #the captain #caphavers #the captain x havers #ben willbond #lgbt representation #lgbt rep #queer media #lgbt media

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lionheartslowstart · 3 years

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Gender Affirmation

If you’re new here, I’m gender-fluid. I’ve been extremely out and vocal about it for something like three years now. The majority of the time I identify somewhere between agender and “female.” Or, as I like to call it, “not a woman, but not NOT a woman.” However, I slide over the entire scale, and sometimes fall outside of it as well.

When I came out, I was with my ex “Kevin,” who was always supportive and accepting of my identity as a concept. In practice, however, it was different. I always felt like I couldn’t talk about my identity, like it made him uncomfortable in some way. There were certain boundaries he was never able to respect. For example, I normally don’t like to be called a “lady,” but he continued to playfully refer to me as a lady anyway, as it was something he had done for years. He never even made an effort to stop. He was also weird about holding hands with me or treating me like a partner in public whenever I presented as more masculine. I never truly felt like he accepted all of me, even though he claimed he did. It’s hard to explain, but it’s how I felt. And when I tried to talk to him about how I felt, he brushed me off (like he did with most things), and shut the conversation down. Which, of course, only reinforced my feeling that discussing my identity made him uncomfortable.

Meanwhile, I came out to my current boyfriend, “Thomas,” pretty early. Like, literally the first weekend he spent at my house after we met. He was essentially unfazed, and was just like “yeah, I accept you.” Still, I was pretty cagey about it for a good long while.

(Heads up, this post is about to get nsfw, but I’ll keep it vague.)

Well, a couple of months ago, Thomas randomly pulled me aside and was like, “Just wondering, have we ever had sex when you were feeling masculine and you didn’t tell me?”

I was caught off guard and immediately felt awkward. I basically said that yes, there were times I did feel more on the masculine side, but I didn’t want to say anything because I didn’t want to risk making him feel uncomfortable. I figured that it wasn’t necessarily something he needed to know, because it was still me he was having sex with. Thomas, who is always gentle and warm, told me that he always wants me to tell him whatever gender I’m feeling, regardless of the circumstance, and including during sex. He told me that he loves me as I am, and he wants to know all of me.

I decided to take Thomas at face value and embrace that. As we’re long distance, I don’t see him too much, so it didn’t come up for a while. However, while I was staying with him last week, the opportunity to vocalize my current gender identity in a sexual context, something I have not done for a very long time, finally arose.

Don’t get me wrong, it’s not like I never had this discussion with Kevin. But it was pretty rare, usually in vague terms, and it didn’t really affect the sex itself much. If it was discussed, it was basically just, “Hey, just so you know, I'm feeling pretty masculine right now.” “Okay,” and that was it.

This interaction was different. I believe Thomas already suspected I was feeling more masculine on that day, because he had attempted to playfully grope my chest and I had pointedly pushed his hands away. (I generally don’t experience dysphoria, but I do feel extremely dysphoric about my chest when I’m on the masculine end of the spectrum.) When things *cough* moved to the bedroom, he asked me, “Are you a bad girl?” I turned beat red and silently shook my head no. After a moment of contemplation, Thomas smiled and asked, “Ohhhhh, are you a bad boy?”

I had not thought I could turn any redder, but I did. No one had ever called me that before, let alone in the bedroom. And...I liked it? Not only that, but he had made the leap without me having to say anything, AND he catered to my gender, of his own accord. My heart smiled.

I will not go into further detail, but I will say that Thomas was extremely affirming in the bedroom. We had the kind of sex I wanted and was comfortable with at that time, I was able to fully engage as myself, and Thomas participated enthusiastically, making sure to consistently validate me. It was exciting, liberating, relaxed, and fun. And it was the first time that sex has been those things for me while I was a boy!

I won’t lie, it never even occurred to me that I could have gender-affirming sex. It never occurred to me that I could indulge in that part of my identity in that way, or that I could have a sexual partner who more than accepted me, but celebrated me, both in and out of the bedroom. I have no idea when the next time will be, but I’m intrigued by the prospect of finally getting to explore this part of my sexuality and gender identity. And I know I have a partner who is excited to do it with me.

#gender #genderqueer #genderfluid #gender euphoria #gender affirmation #personal #relationship #love #acceptance #queer

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honeyandbloodpoetry · 3 years

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Gender Thoughts Pt 1 and 2

The first time I put a binder on, a little under a week ago, I felt euphoric. Ever since I hit puberty very early on, I felt uncomfortable with my breasts. They never felt right on me, and even though I’ve come to love them sometimes, they still don’t always feel like they match up. I hated how people always looked at them, pointed out how much they showed in low cut shirts when I never even noticed they were--or even wanted them to. They were just there. I liked the way low cut shirts feel and look on me, I just can’t help these giant sacks of flesh that sit on my chest.

Except...now I can! I ran my hands over my smooth chest, feeling bright. I looked into the mirror, and felt something warm wash over me. I put on my new masculine clothes, letting my partner clip on my new suspenders. I realized that I was shaking as I looked at myself again… I looked like a boy. I felt like a boy. Like a man. And I liked it. I wanted it. Admitting that to myself was like coming home.

I remember being in sixth grade, walking around the track for my civil air patrol class. I had been slotted in with the rest of the girls, the boys walking ahead of us. I remember feeling uncomfortable being shoved in with only girls, and looking at the gaggle of boys ahead. The exact thought that whispered in my brain was “I wish I was a boy. I want to be like them, with them.” I never forgot that moment, and how strange it made me feel. How it was easier to shake that thought away, and dismiss those feelings. Except they never really left, did they?

I remember sitting on my bed, crying with my best friend kneeling in front of me. I remember telling her how I didn’t like feeling like a woman all the time. That I wished I could be a black shadow, monstrous, androdynous. Specifically like Venom. She took my hand, did my makeup all in black and helped me pick out the perfect black outfit to achieve that dark, gothic look. I was so incredibly happy and validated. But I still felt like something was missing.

I remember going into an Adam and Eve for laugh, not expecting much since I am an asexual with a low libido. I remember seeing packers and feeling my chest tighten. I never liked my genitalia--I had wished for a cloaca or something akin to that, but since that was biologically impossible for a human… I sometimes wished I had the opposite of a vagina. I frequently imagined what it would be like to have a penis. I frequently lamented the fact that I didn’t have one. I took the box up to the counter to ask some questions, my dress swishing as I went. The cashier told me it was for trans people only, and a girl like me couldn’t have it. She didn’t know what asexuality was, and had tried polyamory once but decided it was bad when her girlfriend kissed her boyfriend. I was upset, disheartened, and left the store empty handed feeling frustrated and lost.

I remember finally cutting the long, curly locks that had frustrated and imprisoned me for so long. Seeing all of my hair fall to the floor, staring into the mirror as the barber buzzed the back of my head… It made me want to cry tears of joy. It was the first time in my entire life that I had looked at my hair and was happy. The first time I could look in the mirror and feel like myself. Then I remember wanting to go shorter, and my barber encouraging me to keep it a little longer so I didn’t look manly, so I could still be soft and feminine. The way my stomach dropped and the sick feeling in my chest only increased when he began to make fun of the gay men who came down the street near his favorite restaurant. I never saw that barber again. I instead found a nice local place down the road from my apartment, where the kind lady cut it all off without question, other than “Why?” and accepted my warm “It makes me happy. It makes me feel beautiful.”

But wearing that binder for the first time? It was as if a beam of light had funneled its way directly into my heart. I felt like a handsome man, with just a little bit of striking man boob, and it felt so right. My partner called me a dashing boy and my heart began to race. I still feel his hand tracing my jawline as he called me handsome, and the butterflies it sent up through my belly, even after more than eleven years.

I love my partner--he identifies as agender and primarily masculine, and has been on the lookout for a good pair of size thirteen shoes to wear with a dress. They also wear joggers and flip flops and graphic tees and can’t seem to stop talking about the ocean and outer space. They’re probably one of my biggest inspirations for finding myself, and being authentically me.

I’m not super sure who or what I am right now. I’m still figuring that out, but I’m pretty sure I’m somewhere between agender and genderfluid. I feel like me more than anything else, but all pronouns make me feel good. I feel like all of them and none of them at once, but I swing between wanting to be feminine and masculine pretty strongly, though I enjoy being masculine most of all--even when I’m wearing dresses and pink. I feel like a beautiful person in a dress or a button down, no matter what gender I feel like today or tomorrow.

I am me. And I am one dashing boy, and one beautiful girl.

4 July 2021

XXX

Since first writing this little essay, I’ve been doing a lot more examination of my gender. I have come to the conclusion that I am transmasc and nonbinary, and am shaky on the title of genderfluid. I am feeling less and less like a woman--if anything, occasionally adjacent to a woman rather than actually being one. I love feeling like and presenting as a man. I have my first appointment with a gender services doctor at my local community clinic for consultation on starting hrt testosterone. I am planning to start with low dose first, and see how I feel.

I am still unsure of my exact identity, but I have found great euphoria with being and presenting as a man. I love being a man and everything that entails. I have loved myself like never before. Being with my partner is amazing, and he has been endlessly supportive--even recounting little things they had noticed throughout the years. One of the funniest being that I only ever referred to my body parts--my belly, hands, hair, genitalia--with masculine pronouns. I always seemed to see my body as male even if I had a certain sort of dissonance from it.

Coming out has been difficult. I have had both positive and negative experiences from it. I have been told going on testosterone would be self harm, and that I can’t be something I’m not. I’ve had coworkers I trusted out me without my permission. But I have also had positive affirmation, polite questions, and discussions. I am terrified to tell my mother and her boyfriend--I have no idea how they will react and am terrified that I will be disrespected and disowned.

But I am prepared to do whatever it takes to be my happiest and most authentic self.

I have been binding a lot more often, wearing sports bras for long shifts at work, and occasionally going without either when I feel like letting my man boobs hang free. I’ve had the delightful experience of going to a men’s big and tall store and finally wearing pants. I grew up as a fat girl and felt as if I had to perform high femininity to be taken seriously and be treated well--and had been told by someone I trusted that I was too fat to wear pants, which I heavily internalized. So I had completely cast them away in favor of dresses and skirts, bows and gaudy jewelry. Realizing that I could wear pants was...totally wild. That I could be comfortable and look good in pants and shorts, and that it didn’t matter what people did or thought of me was life changing. Maybe I’ll feel like being feminine again someday, but right now this masculinity and masculine clothing, with perhaps the added spice of funky earrings, feels like home.

I also grew up autistic and with PCOS, both which I think have affected my gender identity. Being autistic, I truly struggled to connect to others socially, and especially to understand societal norms. Being a proper woman felt like I was making up for everything else I was lacking--I may have been awkward, semi-verbal and weird with no friends, but at least I was cute and girlish. I never connected to womanhood though, and always felt out of place no matter how hard I tried. With PCOS, I had heightened testosterone, which meant wider breasts and shoulders, a lack of periods, and excessive body hair. I recall the endocrinologist asking high school age me if I had excessive body hair around my stomach, breasts, etc. and my mother jumping to say no I didn’t...even though I did. I remember suddenly feeling very self aware and ashamed of something completely natural, and even something I started to enjoy. I started shaving my entire body then.

I even remember being in middle school, and thinking nothing of my hairy legs. In fact, I loved my body hair and how it felt. A rude girl began making fun of me though, tutting her tongue as she cooed, “Aw, does your mommy not let you shave?” Among other things, all throughout many years of severe bullying and abuse. I remember feeling ashamed, but not knowing why, and immediately shaving my legs, covering them in nicks from my shaky and unsteady hands, that same night.

So many things set me back in my gender expression. So many things contributed to me willful ignorance and denial. I remember wanting to be butch, and everyone in my life laughing at me and saying I was too soft for that. That sweet, sharp ache in my chest. I remember going to a salad bar with my mother, wearing a button up and telling her I wanted to wear some more boyish clothes around that same time--I had already told her that I was bi sometime earlier. I remember her lip curling, looking uncomfortable, and telling me that I better not become one of those boy girls. My late father was very vocal in denouncing homosexuality and specifically men loving men--something which always sat horribly wrong with me on a deeper level.

I think I might ending up being a trans man. I am still unsure and figuring myself out, but I struggle greatly with the autistic need for sameness vs. the trans need for change. My sapphic love of women has always been very important to me, and fully becoming a man rather than genderfluid is scary for that very reason. I am still navigating my identity and what it means to me and my reality--but no matter what, being a man, being masculine is integral to who I am.

I was called a “sir” at a job interview for the first time the other day, and nearly began to bawl from sheer joy. The gender euphoria from that and so many moments is worth so much more to me than the years of suffering and ignorance and my ongoing struggles with dysphoria. I finally got a packer and have had help from my partner in learning to position it properly--I am thinking of cutting my hair even shorter. I have almost perfected a pretty basic tie tying skill. Okay, not really, but I’m getting there. I feel deep inside that even though my father loved me, he would not like who and what I am. Still, I wear the last watch he ever wore, and hope to be a good man like him--and to learn from the toxic parts of him to be an even better man.

I am very excited to start hrt. I am terrified of hair loss and vaginal atrophy, but I look forward to so much more. I cannot wait for bottom growth and body hair, for the voice drop that will hopefully get me misgendered less. I have always felt disconnected from my voice and look forward to getting to know it better as it changes with me. I look forward to meeting with new facial hair. Working out and growing muscle. I just look forward to my second puberty and becoming more like myself. I look forward to navigating and exploring my gender even further, both with loved ones, support groups, and myself.

More than anything, I am just happy to be me.

25 August 2021

#transmasc #ftm #ftx #gender #genderqueer #transgender #trans #lgbt #lgbtq #trans man #nonbinary #genderfluid #poets of tumblr #spilled thoughts #gender expression #low dose t #hrt

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you-cant-spell-subtext-without · 3 years

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I know we are all discussing the latest episode of Season 16, but I need to wrap up 11 for my own sanity (because there is a LOT to discuss in my Season 12 rewatch already), so without further ado - more rambling for you.

I’m not going to include 11x20: Don’t Call Me Shurley because I think I’d like to do an entire Chuck - arc - series. Rob Benedict is a gift; that dad mug kills; and I love that the fan theories about Chuck spinning around this fandom for years turned out to be correct after all (WEIRD HOW THAT HAPPENS WITH CHARACTERS EH). Moving on.

As you will recall, two recaps and many many many crackhead other posts from my corner of super hell ago, I ended the 11x18 recap with this image of Amara realizing...”something” after Dean said Cas’s name (just before she took Casifer with her), Dean/Amara unbreakable connection be damned. Speaking of unbreakable connection this post is partially the AMARA DISSERTATION. Buckle up.

FF to 11x21: All in the Family; the boys are shooting the shit with Chuck and in the meantime, Amara is torturing Casifer. Important to note that just recently the actual Cas was enlightened that Dean wants him to cast Lucifer out, so I presume he is a little more active at this point, and that strengthens the following hypothesis. Look how Amara is looking at Casifer here:

And here, right before she touches him on the chest.

It’s the same look she gave Dean. She’s trying to decipher something; trying to figure something out.

She appears to Dean in the VERY next scene, to show him how she is torturing Casifer. But the real point is, of course, to show him how its affecting the physical form of Cas, reminding him its not just Lucifer who is suffering. It works.

DEAN

Amara is – she's in my head. [Sam looks at him sharply] Hey, I didn't ask for it, okay? She just showed up. But she's showing me visions of – of Lucifer. By Lucifer, I mean Cas, and he looks like crap – like she's really doing a number on him.

***Note, yet again, despite the *connection* Amara/Dean supposedly share, all he can think about and talk about is Cas.

And Amara knows it. That’s the realization she has in 11x18. Dean loves Cas. Then, in 11x21 she realizes Cas loves Dean. So, she uses it to her own ends. Smart girl.

Enter Donatello (I love him), prophet of (not) the Lord. He, Metatron, and Sam set out to rescue Casifer while Dean distracts Amara. If we start with the presumption she now has the prior additional insight, the following snippets of dialogue hit a little different.

AMARA

This place, this world hasn't been especially easy for you. Why not at least consider my offer?

*********

DEAN

You're right. I am drawn to you. And it bothers the hell out of me, 'cause I can't control it.

AMARA

Then why fight it? What you're feeling is that I am the end of your struggle.

***AHEM, this was not the FACE CUPPING I requested.

What keeps Dean from having it all? What is his struggle? It’s not the monsters or the hunting. Dean’s repeatedly shown he loves this life; he doesn't want anything else (and the one time he did try it in Season 6, it was half-ass at best, and he left the minute Sam returned to go back to hunting). Dean’s KEY struggle in the show is internal. He represses his feelings, pushes his pain aside, resulting in a cycle of self-loathing and anger. That cycle keeps him from having it all - accepting he can be loved, allowing himself to give his heart to someone else. And at this point, Amara not only knows that someone else is Cas, she knows that Cas feels the same way. Girl, welcome to super hell. Take a damn seat by Sam.

11x22: We Happy Few

I’ll skim through this one so this post doesn’t completely make your eyes bleed due to the sheer length.

The splicing with the scenes of everyone assembling different factions to form the new “line-up” needed to trap Amara is excellent. I’ve already done a short post on the brilliance of Dean heading to get Crowley and the ex-boyfriend mood of it all (Dean, of all people, telling Crowley to sober up gives me an ENTIRE head canon of the Crowley/demon!Dean unseen dynamic in Season 10). And of COURSE Dean knows exactly what to say to convince Crowley to get on board. I also enjoy our future Sam-witch as the emissary to Rowena (”three’s a coven” would be a great tattoo, TBH).

BONUS:

I love her.

Big fight scene with Amara ensues, but this isn’t the finale so she cannot be beaten. However, right before she mortally wounds Chuck, she does this:

[Yelling, LUCIFER charges her from behind again, but AMARA flings him hard against a support pillar across the room.]

AMARA

Goodbye, nephew.

[She banishes LUCIFER. CASTIEL slumps unconscious to the floor.]

DEAN: Cas!

(He rushes AMARA, but she flings him away without effort.)

***She banishes Lucifer. She could have just killed him. Ended him entirely, and Cas along with him. But she BANISHES LUCIFER. Because of what she learned in the prior episode. Because of the pain she saw in both of those idiots.

She does this for Dean.

Anyway, thank you Casifer FOR YOUR SERVICE. I miss you already.

11x23: Alpha and Omega

There is nothing more precious than Dean sending his brother to check on GOD while he goes to check on his boyfriend:

DEAN: [Grunting]

Check on him.

SAM: [kneels next to Chuck]

Hey. Chuck?

[Dean kneels down next to Cas and puts a hand on his shoulder. Cas stirs and looks up at Dean]

CAS:

Dean.

DEAN:

Cas? Hey, is that you?

***All the heart eyes for the reunion!!

*********ALSO SHOULDERRRRRRRR

Chuck is dying, Rowena bonds with him. Crowley is gold in this finale. I MISS YOU MARK. This line is NOT in the transcript/script I used, and it potentially being ad libbed makes it even better.

Dean decides to deal with the end of the world by drinking ONE beer, then deciding there is “not enough” beer and grabbing Cas for a beer (and....*feelings*) run.

DEAN:

You know what? This isn't gonna be enough. I better make a run.

[Sighs]

No reason to die sober, huh?

[to Sam]

You want to?

SAM: [frustrated]

No!

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

DEAN:

Be right back.

SAM:

I'll stay here, find our Plan B.

DEAN:

Okay. Cas, come on.

Nothing makes me more pleased than the assumption that of COURSE Cas is coming with him. I mean, he just got him back. Also, Sam is frustrated because he is back in super hell, obvi ;)

***Now we have the little “you’re our brother” bit in the Impala beer run dialogue, but to me it’s because Dean doesn’t know how else to express what he’s feeling. Repression, people.

The look of literal PAIN on Cas’s face at the “brother” line makes me cackle. Misha Collins DESERVES AN EMMY; he is doing the Lord’s work with his Acting Choices here.

This little part before is what really gets me though, especially with all of the WORDS OF AFFIRMATION:

[Dean and Cas are driving in the Impala]

DEAN:

How you doing? You good?

I mean, you know, the whole Lucifer thing.

CAS:

I was just... so stupid.

DEAN:

No, no, no. It wasn't stupid.

You were right. You were right to let Lucifer ride shotgun.

Me and Sam wouldn't have done that.

CAS:

Well, it didn't work.

DEAN:

No, but it was our best shot, and you stepped up.

CAS:

I was just trying to help.

DEAN:

Well, and you do help, Cas.

***ITS JUST SO LOVELY. Dean asking Cas how he is doing (what Cas always asks Dean); telling Cas he wasn’t stupid (throwback to Cas telling Dean he was stupid “for the right reasons”); acknowledging that Cas does HELP. That he is important and appreciated. THIS IS SUCH GROWTH. I LOVE IT SO MUCH. Speak his love language, King.

Anyway, then Dean turns into a human bomb because martyr!dean gonna martyr and be “daddy’s (Chuck filling that role here) blunt little weapon” and we get -

THE DESTIEL GOODBYE. Tell me they didn’t actually go canon for the FIRST time here. I will fight you.

LOOK at Cas watching him in the background.

These fucking desolate eyes. I’m crying.

THEY JUST GOT EACH OTHER BACK -

(I recognize this .gif is meh quality but I love that he turns and walks to him and Cas just GRABS him in this crushing hug)

DEAN [accepts the hug good-naturedly but then looks sad]

Okay, okay.

***”good naturedly??? ok Jensen “Acting Choices” Ackles. That is not “good nature” that is BLISS.

AND THEN THIS -

SOBS IN ENOCHIAN.

***I literally had to remind myself that the reunion hug is coming; it’s just an episode away. I’ll make y’all feel better too; here it is - A PERFECT PARALLEL. Curse this show.

MORE OF THIS “GOOD NATURED” HUGGING PLEASE.

Anyways, back to depressing subtext.

DEAN:

Okay, look. I want a big funeral.

All right? I'm talking epic.

Okay? Open bar, choir, Sabbath cover band, and Gary Busey reading the eulogy.

*****This scene lives in my mind rent-free as PROOF 15x20 doesn’t exist.

I can’t skip over further growth in Dean’s goodbye to Sammy.

***He’s being serious. Seasons 1-3 Dean would never have admitted this. I was a blubbering mess at this point.

So, Dean heads to Amara, and the rest of the gang heads to the bar.

CROWLEY:

Your round, Moose.

***I would love an entire bottle episode of Crowley, Sam, Rowena, and Chuck at that bar TBH.

And then, Dean saves the day. BUT NOT by dying and sacrificing himself, letting himself be used as a weapon of mass destruction. No, he fixes the DAMN WORLD by connecting to Amara emotionally, and bringing her and Chuck back together, because he understands that not to be alone is what she really needs; that her own struggle is the same as his - letting in love instead of raging against it and fighting her own need for companionship. Because that’s where ELDEST SIBLING AMARA AND Dean Winchester CONNECT. Amara isn’t in love with Dean. She identifies with Dean. She sees her own feelings in him, her own pain, and that’s why she exorcises Lucifer and saves Cas - FOR Dean. Amara’s just a Dean girl, everyone. And we know Dean girls protect Cas at all costs.

Yup. Amara Dean Girl Darkness Heller.

That’s it. That’s the dissertation.

See you in Season 12, where I will attempt to figure out the reason behind the British Men of Letters, killing Hitler, the brain melt that is Celebrating the Life of Asa Fox, the comedy of errors that is Cas playing Dean hot and cold, and the Mary Winchester of it all.

#destiel #spn analysis #spn meta #supernatural #spn family #spn fandom #spn season 11 #amara #spn recap #dean winchester

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degenerate-perturbation · 3 years

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Viv Reviews: The Witch’s Heart by Genevieve Gornichec

Being as I am contractually obliged to read all Loki-the-mythological-being fanfiction, I dive bombed this book like a seagull espying a stray french fry on the boardwalk. I had never heard of it before I saw it on the shelf at the bookstore, but reading the summary and the first page, I bought it immediately, started it within a few days, and finished it over the course of approximately four baths. Usually the lag time between me becoming aware of a book and actually reading it is anywhere between a year and a decade, so this is pretty incredible performance.

And this one was actually good! Really good! Or it could have been, if it didn’t absolutely cheese it in the second half of the story.

The first half is extremely solid, if somewhat conventional. It follows the myths, centering on Angrboda and Loki’s relationship. I had a pre-existing attachment to Loki and enjoyed all of this greatly. Was it stunning literature? No. Was it a really solid, satisfying fanfiction? Yes. And I will give the first half of the book solid marks on that front.

I’ll be honest. I read this book for Loki. But I really enjoyed Angrboda as a protagonist here. She minds her own business. She doesn’t hold grudges. She doesn’t want revenge for the trauma and wrongs visited upon her. She doesn’t cling to pride. Overall it paints the picture of an admirable person, who never strays into the saccharine or unbelievable. I like her. Even though I am a Loki apologist through and through, when they part on bad terms, I was fully on her side.

I also really like this Loki. In this book his key flaw is identified not as dishonesty or disloyalty, but as an excessive desire to be accepted. Loki is willing to do anything to continue to be accepted by the Aesir, or rather tolerated by them. He is ready to suffer any humiliation, any degradation, any pain, any loss, all to keep his tenuous, heavily-conditional place among them. For all us faggots and retards and adjacent undesirables in the audience, this is a familiar emotion. I clapped my hands in delight to watch it all play out; Loki the weird kid who eats dirt trying desperately to keep the cool kids laughing so he can imagine that they are laughing with him, not at him, even if it means betraying his own family.

There is another interesting element to this story and that is the hint of Angrboda/Skadi as the endgame relationship. It’s built up nicely; Skadi and Angrboda are good friends, jealous of one another’s husbands and not talking about it, all the while we the audience know that Angrboda and Loki’s marriage is doomed to explode. When Angrboda is nearly killed and all she loves taken from her, Skadi is the one who is there for her. Aha! I think. So this is why Skadi hated Loki so much, and why Angrboda left Loki to his fate! Hohoho, I can’t wait to see this play out.

And then it just fucking doesn’t.

At the midpoint of the book, the tension drains away, there is no structure to speak of, and Stuff Kind Of Just Happens.

Having healed from the attempt on her life, Angrboda decides to set off on a journey to rediscover her magical abilities. She gives Skadi the standard “I have to do this alone” line, and...Skadi just goes, okay, bye then, and lets her go. And then she just isn’t in the story for a long time.

At this point Angrboda’s goal is to find her daughter, because she knows her sons are fated to die during Ragnarok. Angrboda is unable to die; she always comes back. This is one of the first things established about her and the audience is reminded of it when she fails to die when she is killed, at the midpoint. Aha! one might think. Angrboda will be so desperate to see her daughter that she will repeatedly try to die, and be unable to! Only once she has exhausted every option and given up on despair, only then is she able to access her magic and travel to the underworld without dying! Only by choosing to live can she truly heal and progress in her goals!

But that is not what happens. What actually happens is that Angrboda putzes around for a few years Finding Herself and making friends with local wildlife. She relearns her magic because Freyja--a character who has hardly been mentioned in the story up until this point--teaches her. Because Girl Power, or something. When she finally does reach Hel, it doesn’t feel like an exciting emotional climax, it’s just kind of another thing that happens. Poor structure!

Here is another example of poor structure: the eventual Angrboda/Skadi relationship.

After they randomly part ways just at the juncture where serious relationship development would reasonably be happening, they next speak to each other after Ragnarok has started. Skadi comes to visit Angrboda. She tells her about the binding of Loki, but leaves out her role in it. Later, she guiltily admits that she was the one who added the snake, because she wanted to make Loki suffer for hurting Angrboda. This makes Angrboda realize that Skadi loves her, and they become lovers. Several months later, Angrboda decides, for no particular reason, that she should free Loki.

Look. I’m not any kind of screenwriting genius. But there is an obvious way that this should have played out according to every law of dramatic tension. Here it is:

Skadi goes to see Angrboda at the start of Ragnarok, and, driven by the impending apocalyptic events, confesses her feelings. They become lovers. Skadi hides her role in the binding of Loki for the duration of their relationship. Angrboda spends months or even years lost in the haze of complacent gay love and resignation to fate. Then, much later, Skadi tells her the truth. This horrifies Angrboda, and is the catalyst which makes her decide to free Loki. The realization that she still cares for her good-for-nothing ex-husband spurs some character development.

But Angrboda and Skadi can’t have any drama or emotional conflict or tension in their relationship. Because Girl Power.

And when she gets there, and witnesses her ex-husband, the father of her children, horrifically tortured and maimed as a direct result of the actions of her current lover, what does Angrboda do? She takes a moment to have a little pow-wow with Sigyn and let her know that there are no hard feelings and we women have to support each other you know. Because Girl Power.

The rest of the story is an incoherent soup of Stuff Just Happening. It has that fanfiction vibe of just trying to get through all the canon plot points while the characters we’re actually focusing on have nothing to do with them. There is one cool part where Angrboda realizes that Hel has a weak heart--so she cuts out her own and gives it to her, and this allows Hel to survive Ragnarok. Loki was the one who returned Angrboda’s heart to her at the start of the story, so this is quite sweet and fitting. But it happens offscreen, and then we are subjected to Hel & Baldur’s romantic banter which is gratingly exactly the same as Angrboda & Loki’s romantic banter.

There is a skeleton of a good story here. But that’s really the best I can say for it. I’m not really sure what happened here--other reviewers have suggested a lack of imagination on Gornichec’s part, and maybe that explains some of it, but I suspect the Girl Power themes also have to do with it. So many scenes and plot points seem only to exist to affirm the theme of Women Supporting Women. I vaguely get the impression that Gornichec is shying away from centering the Angrboda and Loki relationship, too, Because Girl Power. Only this doesn’t work, because it is quite clearly the central relationship, and acting like it’s not just makes for poor storytelling.

I’ve said before that a mark of a good story is one whose prose, plot, characters, and world all uniformly and point in the same direction, creating a coherent Theme. Here it’s more like the Theme was dropped into the middle of the plot by a dumptruck and left there, getting in the way of the actual story and messing up the structure. And structure is seriously important! The book I read immediately after this one was The Rise of Kyoshi by F. C. Yee, another published f/f fanfiction novel, and I won’t be reviewing that one, because it was damn good - in large part due to its tight, coherent structure.

The Witch’s Heart could’ve been it, but ultimately turned out a disappointing fanfiction. Compare Miller’s Circe - but Circe was a better book by far.

#viv reviews #extended speech act

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mercheswan · 4 years

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He is Mine!

You can also find it in AO3 -> User: MerCevans

“Okay kids! Let’s go, first day of Elementary School, we’re leaving in five!” Peter Hale shouted descending the stairs.

Theodore Raeken-Hale heard his dad’s call and quickly grabbed his shoes and his bag, he stopped in front of the mirror to look at himself, Theo wanted to look good, today was an important day, he was going to meet other kids, human kids, and that made Theo uneasy although he wouldn’t admit it.

Theo was five years old and he was a Werewolf, like the majority of the members of his Pack, his family. Theo didn’t born as a werewolf, though, his parents died when he was a baby, and his father, Peter, saved him and adopted him. He turned into a Werewolf thanks to the bite, that was given to him, by his aunt, the Pack’s Alpha, Talia Hale.

Theo adored his family. He had a step-sister, Malia, she was five years old too and even though, she and Theo fighted a lot, deep inside everyone knew that they really cared for each other. Theo also had three cousins; Cora was also five like Theo and Malia, she was serius and matured for her age’s, but when Theo and Malia planned a prank she was always on board with it. Derek was eleven, Theo admired him, Derek was strong and very popular, Theo wanted to be like him in the future. And Laura who was fourteen years old, was meant to become the Pack’s Alpha someday.

Theo exited his room and met Malia on the corridor. “Malia wait!” Theo said joining his sister.

“We have to run or Dad is going to leave without us!” Malia exclaimed as she started to run towards the Mansion’s entrance, Theo following behind.

“Are you excited?” Theo asked.

“I guess… I’m worried too… you’re so much better at control than I am, I don’t wanna hurt someone or show my fangs or flahs my eyes accidentally” Malia responded.

Theo, Malia and Cora had been learning to control their powers. People couldn’t find out about them being Werewolves. Despite being kids they were stronger than an average person and they could injure someone unintentionally, so they have to be careful.

“You’ll be fine” Theo assured and Malia smiled.

Theo and Malia met their father at the entrance who was waiting with Cora and Talia.

“Finally! Come on children to the car, we want to make a good impression on your new teacher, right?” Peter said and the kids chanted affirmatively.

“Remember your training, you’ll be fine, have fun, you’re making the Pack really proud” Talia proclaimed saying goodbye to the children.

————————

Mieczyslaw “Stiles” Stilisnki was on the verge of dying of excitement. Today he started Elementary School, he had been waiting for the day to arrive, Stiles wanted to meet and play with his classmates, and show them his new “super cool Star Wars backpack”.

“Mommy, mommy come on! We don’t want to be late!” Stiles bounced at the entrance of the Stilinski household.

Claudia Stilinski, Stiles’s mother, laughed “Mischief wait! You have to grab a jacket is a little bit chilly outside”. Stiles adorably cocked his head to the side assessing what her mother wa saying, before nodding and running upstairs to grab a jacket.

“You’re full of energy today Siles, Did you take your adderall?” Noah Stilinski questioned his son.

“Yes Dad!” Stiles exclaimed.

“Be good, listen to your teacher and don’t be too noisy” Noah advised.

“Nonsense! Just be yourself Mischief, you’re going to make very good friends this year” Claudia assured his son, hitting his husband on the arm.

“Well I’ll be going, I’ll see you tonight so you can tell me all about your day, okay kiddo?” Noah said kissing his son on the head. Stiles cheerfully nodded.

“Bye Dad! Come on Mom we have to leave too” Stiles excitedly said.

Claudia followed his imperactive child to the car with a fond smile on her face.

————————

Peter Hale parked his car in the Elementary School’s parking lot. There were lost of people already saying goodbye to their kids. Parents and children crying and shouting everywhere. Peter’s and the children’s Werewolf senses were overloaded. Peter sighed, what an exhausting day.

The children exited the vehicle. Malia noticed that Cora smelled nervous and took her hand to calm her down. Peter was proud of her girl, Malia wasn’t a very sentimental kid, she was very connected to her animal side, but gestures like this proved that she had an soft side too.

“Let’s go to the entrance, we can see in which class you’re going to be” Peter claimed and the children followed him.

They walked towards the entrance. Then Peter felt a tug in his trouser, Peter looked down and saw Malia pointing with his finger to the other side of the parking lot. Peter glanced at the direction his daughter was signalizing and saw Theo walking in the opposite direction, apparently lost. What’s he doing? This kid is way too good at sneaking it’s going to be problematic in the future Peter thought.

Since Theo exited the car there had been something, some kind of pull inside him that was calling to his senses, to his inner wolf. Theo could hear many hearbeats, he could hear many voices, there were too many people but if he focused enough there was one heart who beated louder than the rest. There were too many scents in the air but Theo could sniff clearly the sweet scent of someone who smelled like chocolate, cinamon, lavender, enthusiasm, and some chemical substances that usually would bother Theo’s senses ,but for some reason Theo couldn’t understand, they didn’t.

Theo needed to find this person, they were here, so close, and his wolf was ordering him to identify them. So without thinking too much Theo moved away from his father, sister and cousin in walking in the direction his instints were telling him that he would find them.

When Theo saw the boy for the first time he paralyzed. The boy, who had to be his age, was breathtakingly beautiful, with pale skin covered in moles and a bright smile, he was talking with a woman, his mother allegedly. Theo needed to hold him, now.

Theo stood in front of the boy who looked back at Theo with a smile and a questioning expression. Theo smiled back and out of the blue hugged the boy who made a cheerful noise and hugged Theo back. When they separeted theo shocked them even more.

“Mine” Theo claimed with a grin taking the boy’s hand into his.

Peter who was walking towards Theo to collect him heard what his son said thanks to his Werewolf hearing and froze. Wait did he? He can’t possibly have found his… Peter thought.

The Werewolf reached to his son. “Theo you can’t wander around, you can’t leave my side” Peter schooled his son.

“Dad! Look! I found him, he is mine!” Theo excitedly shouted while rounding the boy with his arms. Oh my God he did! Peter’s mind screamed.

“No, no Theo, we don’t own people!” Peter said to his son trying to make him behave like a human.

“But Dad! He is so pretty, look at him he is perfect!” Theo protested not letting go of the boy. Peter could feel his son’s inner wolf’s anger, ready to defend the boy who had caught his eye from whoever tried to harm him. Peter needed to calm Theo down.

“Theo that’s enough! You can be the boy’s friend , I’m sure he would like to make a new friend” Peter reasoned with his son. “I’m so very sorry about his behaviour, he must be nervous because it’s the first day of school” Peter apologised to the boy’s mother.

“Oh no, don’t worry, your son is adorable. See Mischief I knew you were going to make good friends this year. I’m Claudia Stilinski nice to meet you” Claudia said.

“Peter Hale likewise. First day is always stressing, for them… and for us” Peter responded and Claudia laughed agreeing.

“Mischif?” Theo asked.

“Only mommy calls me that! My name it’s from a coutry that’s very far away and it’s very difficult to say. It sounds like Mischief and that’s why mommy calls me that, but you can call me Stiles, people call me Stiles, I like it!” Stiles happily rambled.

“Stiles” Theo repeated the name, and Stiles smiled.

“You are weird” Stiles claimed. Theo’s smile dropped from his face, Peter could feel waves of sadness coming from his son. This is not going well The adult Werewolf thought. “I like it! let’s be friends!” Stiles cheerfully exclaimed. Theo grinned widely and both children laughed. Peter huffed relieved.

“I’m Theo” Theo introduced himself. “You smell so good” Theo said sniffing Stiles’s neck.

“It tickles! Hahaha!” Stiles giggled out loud.

“Theodore!” Peter threated.

“You are pretty too” Stiles said blushing a little bit. Theo’s look at Stiles’s words could only remind Peter of those japanese cartoons the children watched in which the characters had hearts in their eyes. Theo never acted so sweetly with anyone this kid must really be the one Theo’s wolf chose. So young… It’s incredibly uncommon Peter thought.

“Dad… we have to go inside…” Malia intervened with Cora next to her, the two girls were confused about what was happening.

“Oh you’re right! Come on sweetheart, come on” Claudia added.

“Who are they?” Stiles asked looking at Theo.

“My sister and my cousin, Malia and Cora” Theo explained.

“Oh! Nice to meet you! I’m Stiles, I’m Theo’s” Stiles said making Peter jump out of surprise. The boy smelled human to Peter he should not be able to feel the bond between he and Theo.

“You’re cute” Malia said.

Stiles smiled brightly. “Thanks! You’re pretty too, like Theo, and you too!” Stiles said speaking to both Malia and Cora.

Theo growled and grabbed Stiles’s hand. It appeared that his inner wolf was jealous about his boy complementing other wolves. Malia and Cora turned around to look at their relative with widen eyes. Rule number one don’t growl or howl at people. Peter was seriously considering taking Theo home his wolf was out of control.

“Wow! That was so cool! You sound like a dog! No! Like, l-like a wolf! Do it again!” Stiles exclaimed.

“He can’t!” Cora confronted.

“Do you like wolves Stiles?” Malia questioned.

“Malia!” Cora hissed.

“Umm yes, they are strong and like big dogs that sing to the moon” Stiles answered.

Theo smiled. “I love wolves. What’s your favourite animal?”

“The fox! They are very nice and the move their tail when they are happy and they like to play a lot!” Stiles blurted.

“You can be a fox and I can be a wolf” Theo claimed and Stiles squeezed Theo’s hand happily.

“Wolves and foxes don’t like each other” Cora argued.

“The can be friends if they try!” Stiles argued back.

“Oh kids look almost all the children have already enter. Mischief, be good I leave you with your new friends” Claudia kissed her son.

“Let’s go inside” Malia proclaimed

“Theo, maybe you should come with me home, you are a little bit out of control” Peter suggested trying to make his son realize that he wasn’t acting as he was supossed to.

“No!” Both Theo and Stiles chorused. “I’ll be good I promise, I’ll be with Stiles and obey the teacher” Theo pleaded.

“Ok. Behave all of you” Peter conceded.

Theo, Stiles and Malia grinned widely and Cora smiled softly. They entered the building where a lady guided them to their class.

“I like you backpack. Star Wars is so cool!” Theo said. Stiles stopped and looked at Theo with awe before hugging him tight. Theo giggled.

Both Peter and Claudia looked at their sons Exchange with fondness.

“I’m so glad that my son met yours, they are going to be very close, aren’t they?” Claudia said softy to Peter.

“Yes, I think they will” Peter responded. “Your child is very special”

“So is yours, they were bound to meet. I guess we’ll see each other a lot” Claudia smiled, Peter nodded. This family is very interesting is like they are connected somehow to the supernatual, or at least they feel it insome way Peter thought.

Peter drove home and when he entered the house her sister intercepted him.

“How did it go? Were they nervous, everything went all right?” Talia questioned.

“Cora and Malia were nervous and excited at the same time. Theo found his mate” Peter blurted.

Talia froze. “What are you talking about he is five!”

“The mother was nice, there was something mystical about her, and about the boy too. And driving back home I realized that I had heard the last name Stilinski before, I belive the husband is a deputy” Peter explained ignoring his sister.

“Peter! Theo is a child you can’t possibly know for sure that he found his mate!” Talia insisted.

Peter shrugged. “Some people find them before others” Peter concluded sitting on the sofa. An exhausting day indeed.

Theo Raeken-Hale is five years old and a member of the Hale Pack. He, his sister Malia and his cousin Cora are starting Elementary School.

When Peter drove the kids to school the last thing he was expecting was for his son to find his mate.

"Mine" Theo claims hugging Stiles.

"Theo, we don't own people!" Peter hisses

"But he is beautiful! Look at him!" Theo insist.

Stiles giggles. "You're weird! I like you!"

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------—————————

Theo's mate couldn't be an ordinary human. It had to be a bright one.

"Because you're Werewolves!" Stiles exclaimed.

"What makes you say that?" Laura asks covering her panic.

"It's obvious" Stiles says.

Oh well.

Theo, Malia, Cora and Stiles were seven years old. They were doing homework in the Hale Mansion.

Stiles integrated himself nicely in the Pack. Malia loved him and although Cora pretended to be bothered by his attitude sometimes, she really liked him too. The rest of the members got used to the imperactive human’s presence. Even Derek didn’t mind having the little mischievous kid around. Stiles was noisy and loud but he was beloved by the Werewolves. They understood the bond Theo and Stiles had and they knew how sacred it was.

Theo was smitten by Stiles even more than the day they met. Theo had a talk with his aunt about the bond he shared with Stiles. She called them mates, Theo didn’t care he knew that Stiles made him happy and that he wanted to protect him and be with him forever.

Stiles’s parents were happy that their son found loyal friends who treated him right. Noah and Claudia often diner with the Hales. Talia wanted to have a good relationship with them. Talia knew she would have to eventually tell them about the supernatural, them and Stiles, but she wanted to wait a bit more until Stiles was older. That was her plan.

Stiles closed his book roughly “Done!” Stiles exclaimed.

“Already? You’re too smart Stiles!” Malia complained, everytime they made their homeworks together she was always the last one to finish it.

“I finished too” Theo claimed and Stiles smiled at him.

“Don’t lie, you haven’t done the last two questions” Derek said to his cousin lying on the sofa reading a book. He had been entrusted with supervising the kids.

Theo poutted bitterly not liking getting caught.

“Cheater!” Stiles accused with a laugh.

“What’s going on here?” Laura asked entering the living room.

“Homework” Cora answered concetrated in her book.

“Finish already! I want to play baseball! I won’t see you in the next few days” Stiles pouted.

“Why not? Are you leaving with your parents Stiles?” Laura questioned.

“No, but It’s the full moon in two days” Stiles responded making the five Werewolves of the room froze.

Derek closed his book and looked at Laura with a little bit of panic in his eyes.

Laura collected herself. “And what does it matter that is a full moon?” She carefully asked.

Stiles looked seriously at the future Alpha. “You are Werewolves, you get affected by it, don’t you?” Stiles allegued.

Derek’s eyes widened, Cora, Laura and Theo looked at Stiles with an atonished face.

“You told him?” Malia asked Theo, who looked at her sister denying it.

“Malia!” Derek hissed. Stiles looked at the Wolves with a questioning expression. “Mom!” Derek screamed.

“She is not home” Laura muttered. The rest of the Pack were working or dping some chores.

“Uncle Peter!” Dered shouted again.

“What’s wrong?” Stiles inocently asked.

“You called?” Peter said entering the living room.

“Stiles says we are Werewolves” Cora blurted making the rest of the Hales look at her with a surprised expression.

Peter blinked “I see…” He said calmly. “Why do you think that Stiles?”

“It’s obvious” Stiles said. “Theo is a Werewolf so you have to be too”.

“Why is Theo a Werewolf?” Malia asked.

“His favourite animal is the wolf, and Theo makes cool wolf noises too. He is also very strong he moved alone the big wardrobe that time when I lost my pencil. Also they found claws of an animal in Jackson’s jacket the day he was really mean to me. Theo is sniffing me all the time and he licks me with his tongue too” Stiles explained. “That only happened once!” Theo protested. Stiles giggled. “Sometimes Malia’s nails are super long, your eyes” Stiles motioned to all the wolves “are very bright” he added. Stiles faced Theo “Your eyes flash yellow, they are beautiful” Theo smiled sweetly at the compliment.

Peter hummed out oud. “Have you tell anyone about this Stiles?

Stiles denied with his head. “It’s a secret, right? Our secret!” Stiles answered.

“Yes is a secret. You can’t tell anyone Stiles, bad people could come after us” Peter explained.

“Ok, I won’t tell. I’ll protect you like Theo protects me” Stiles claimed looking at his mate, Theo grinned widely before kissing Stiles on the cheek making the human blush. “Do you turn into wolves?! Can I see!?” Stiles asked animated.

Laura smiled. “No we don’t we only shift a little, we can show you other day” Laura said.

“Well mom can turn into a real wolf” Cora added.

Stiles beamed. “Cool!”

“I will be able to turn into real wolf when I’m older” Theo claimed trying to impress Stiles.

“You don’t know that!” Malia argued.

“Kids! You can finish your homework later, Why don’t you go play in the backyard?” Peter sugggested.

Stiles agreed enthusiastically grabbing Theo’s arm and running towards the backyard.

Derek, Laura, Cora and Malia stood there watching at the older wolf. “He was going to find out sooner or later, the kid has a very bright mind, don’t worry, since the begining Stiles has been able to feel somehow the mate bond with Theo, he won’t do anything to harm him, or us” Peter reassured his family. “Go to play” Peter insisted. Malia and Cora stood up and and ran to join the boys.

“Are yo usure it’s gonna be all right?” Derek questioned.

“Yes. I guess we have to invite the Stilinskis to diner after the full moon, and we will have to invite everyone” Peter proclaimed.

It would have been better to wait a little longer, but seeing how happy Stiles made his son, everyhing was worth it.

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darkdevasofdestruction · 4 years

Text

Little Tinkerbell ~ Yin Zhi x Reader

Little maiden, what are you doing? Should you really waste your time in the library, studying, when outside is sunny and you could be playing with the princes and princesses?

Little maiden, what are you doing? Should you really be tinkering with weird widgets, when you could be learning how to apply make up?

Little maiden, what are you doing? Should you really be going riding through the forest, when you could be going shopping for fashionable clothes and accessories?

He heard all the rumours, all the gossips, all the bad words...He saw all the judging eyes of all the close-minded and inapt people...He saw everything...And yet, Yin Zhi couldn't understand how come this little mockingjay would rather study and be by herself, despite all the reprimanding she gets, when she could solve it all by obeying, like all women do?

Why was she so stubborn? Why did she insist on doing literally everything that he was also interested in, and yet, he wasn't reprimanded, just because he was a man, and more, the Emperor's son?

A man...Well, he's not a man yet, he's barely 12 years old, and yet, this girl keeps bugging his mind.

It all started when he went to the library one day, and his way was through the garden, and there she was, a little maiden, her beautiful hair flying messily into the air, as she was hunched over a stone tabled, doing something, clearly focused enough to draw out anything outside of her area of work. She didn't even hear him approach, not even sitting in front of her, until he strategically stepped into her light, and she got too confused at the sudden darkness, until she looked up and realised who was eclipsing her.

"You...You are the 3rd Prince, aren't you? Yin Zhi, was it? What are you doing here?" she asked, her hands hanging awkwardly, still holding the delicate screws and gears from the machinery. "Great, you know who I am. Should I be asking you the same now, for the sake of common courtesies? Or will you finally answer my question?" he asked impatiently, thinking he'd intimidate the girl...But she didn't sketch any of that. "A travelling merchant from the West came by recently, and I bought some musical boxes. They make beautiful music, and this rotating doll has interesting clothes. I wanted to take everything apart, learn how the engine works, how each and every little piece keeps the synergy going, and then attempt to recreate something similar, or maybe even better. Who knows." she shrugged, going back to her tinkering. "Don't tell me you actually understand what you're doing." he scoffed, and yet, leaned forward to pay attention to her dexterous fingers. "I do...But, do you?" she smirked, provoking him. "Are you mocking me?!" the prince scoffed, shocked at her impertinence. "It's mocking only if you get offended. If not, you can shut up, listen, and understand." there was no malice or harshness in her words, and the prince realised that there was an unexpected maturity and wisdom about her, that seemed to calm him...Or tame him. "Fine, then. If you're so sure of yourself, then show me how you'd repair this music box to its original state." he challenged her, which oddly enough, made he grin brightly at him. "No problem!" she started humming a melody, which he guesses might be the one from the music box, and with an outstanding ingenuity, she played around with those tiny tools and even tinier gear pieces, using a magnifying glass to see better, and there it was, in its dull glory, a dancing doll and a pretty song. "Not bad...For someone like you. I must confess, I never expected a girl to be interested in machinery or studying like you are. I am...Impressed." he was just a child back then, still reckless and easily wearing his emotions on his sleeve, as he blushed...She quickly became his childhood crush, clearly. "Thank you, Yin Zhi! Nobody ever said anything nice about my...Out of the ordinary interests, so...Thank you." she gave him a sweet smile, before taking the music box, ready to leave. "It's getting late, I must go home and continue my studying. I hope to see you again soon, Prince." she gave him an innocent kiss on his cheek, waving goodbye, before leaving the place, her beautiful, flowy, pink dress flying behind her.

Since then, this little maiden was the only one that he accepted to study with, to learn with and to learn from, or listen to...And also, she was the only one who could get him to sneak out of the Palace to go on the top of the hill to watch the stars, identify constellations, to watch the fireflies, and she was the only one he enjoyed riding with.

She wasn't like all those princesses and ladies who'd rather waste her time doing needlework and baking cakes... Although he couldn't deny that her osmanthus cakes were amazing, the tea she was brewing was incredibly aromatic, and the costumes she was creating were making even the Western tailors jealous.

However, he couldn't pin point whether she was she was really as great as she was making her out to be, or simply, that's how he was seeing her. That's weird, since he prides himself for being level-headed, rational and also, for seeing things exactly as they are, not veiled by the charms of emotions and...And that other forbidden word he canNOT allow himself to say, not out loud, nor to himself.

But years passed, and not even him, Yin Zhi, the 3rd Prince, was safe from the feminine charms, and Y/N was becoming more beautiful with each day passing.

As time went by, he always felt the need to invite her, under different pretexts, to hang out with him, mostly for the sole reason that he truly enjoys her company. She never speaks more than she has to, and when she does, her words are meaningful and leave a lingering feeling that tugs at his heartstrings, making him want to hear more of her voice.

Even his mother, Consort Qin, was feeling infinitely better whenever she would visit her, and it almost felt like a healing, bright aura, something incredibly refreshing, like the cold mint freeze, that was making her feel so great. She was a mother, clearly, she was well aware of her son’s feelings for this little maiden, and she was happy that her only child, that she loved so much, and in turn, cared so much for her, was able to find such a kind and brilliant woman to be by his side and match his wits and intellect just as he always dreamt of.

So one night, on one of the many occasions that they spent together, they found themselves riding through the forest, and arrived at a gorgeous waterfall, continued by a blue lagoon, surrounded by numerous flowers of variate, vibrant colours, tons of butterflies and choruses of birds singing like angels.

“I don’t know how we got here, but this looks like a true paradise. Wouldn’t it be so much more peaceful if we were to live closer to nature, and farther away from noisy people?” Y/N asked, yet her question wasn’t exactly addressed, as she took of her shoes and lifting up the hem of her long dress, she went to the shallow part of the lagoon, jumping on the stones to get closer to the waterfall. “I can’t deny that would be the ideal scenario...Although, I wouldn’t advise you to stay too long in the freezing water, or too close to the waterfall. You will get soaked and sick.” he shook his head, sitting on one of the big rocks guarding the lagoon. “Don’t tell me...Yin Zhi, have you never bathed into a lake? Or a spring? Or under a waterfall?” she giggled, teasing him, as she gracefully skipped next to him, taking off his hat, putting it on his horse, and then going behind him to braid his hair. “Did I give you permission to touch my hair? Do you want me to kill you that badly?” he let his head down so he could look at her, and despite his words, he bore no ill will. “If you kill me, who’s going to read with you, or help you with machinery?” she chuckled, planting a soft kiss on his forehead. “Besides, you know I can’t resist your hair. It’s the most beautiful and soft in the whole kingdom.” her smile was so playful and gentle that it seemed to relax him immediately. “I don’t need your help in repairing machinery, nor do I need the distraction you offer while reading. And, to reply to the other affirmation, I’m a Prince, after all. We get lucky since birth.” he smirked gracefully, making the girl hum, as she was pondering. “Well...Should I tell you a secret? Yeah, sure, I always tell you all the secret I know anyway. The only other princes with nice hair are Yin Zhen and the 14th prince, and not even they can compare with yours. I mean...Have you seen the Crown Prince? Or the 5th prince? It’s like they don’t care at all! It looks so...Course and greasy! I wouldn’t dare get my finger anywhere close to that!” she started laughing, faking a shudder, as she finished the braid. “Good, because if you did, I’d have cut your fingers off. Good luck touching my hair without fingers.” he grumbled, almost as if jealous. “Awww, but then, who’d braid your hair? You know you like it when I play with your hair, so don’t play the tough facade with me. Besides...I’m pretty sure you’re going to kill me regardless of what I do, so...” with a low giggle, she pushed herself into his back, sending both of them into the lagoon, shocking the poor prince who wasn’t expecting that. “ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?!” he yelled at her, glaring, as soon as he resurfaced to get some air. “YES!” she laughed so carefree, all that hair playing as a curtain draped all over her face. “Oh, spare me.” he scoffed, putting his hand on her head and pushing her underwater, long enough to get his revenge, but not long enough that she might have discomfort. “Okay, but you have to admit, it was pretty fun! It’s always nice trying out new things, isn’t it?” she laughed, struggling to throw away all that hair from her face. “You, dummy...Get here, I’ll help.” he couldn’t help but show a half smile at the girl since, despite all the silliness and complete lack of mannerism, she always managed to warm his heart more and more. “Thank you. Perhaps I should have braided my hair too before, but, oh well, guess now I can look like one of those vengeful ghosts from the stories our mums would tell us to keep us behaving.” she grinned, letting her hair down to allow the man behind her to braid her hair properly. “Speaking of stories...I once heard one from my mother, and I almost think she was talking about you, especially as I met you when we were young...And you were so small compared to me, even then.” he teased her, making her widen her eyes in intrigue. “Ohh, tell me, tell me!” she turned around, hugging her legs and resting her chin on her knees, waiting for the story patiently...Or not so, rather. “It’s not much to say...It’s about a little fairy who was struggling to find out what her defining talent. Some had the power to make flowers bloom in a matter of seconds, others could speak to animals, other could bend water, storms or light to their will...And yet, this little fairy that everyone found so odd, couldn’t find her defining talent among all the other girls she knew. Do you want to know why?” he never admitted that, no matter how many times the girl told him, but he had the gift of story-telling and keeping the listener gripped completely. “Yes, tell me!” his heart was melting seeing her almost childlike enthusiasm and fascination on her face that simply his words could create. “She was special, that’s why. Special, even among her peers. Because she was incredibly inventive and handy, so she was sent to the tinkers to create intricate machinery that would aid all the other fairies on their jobs of keeping nature balanced and properly taken care of. And because her dress resembled a bell flower, she was given the name of...Tinkerbell.” he explained the story, which made her jolt to her feet in a second, running to the bed of flowers. “So, you’re saying I’m Tinkerbell, aren’t you? Then, I have to create a proper outfit for my talent! What do you say which flower should I take inspiration from?” she crouched down in front of the flowers, only to hear a scoff from the man. “You won’t find the one there, silly woman...But here.” he leaned to snatch a pink lotus flower from the lagoon, making his way in front of her, and carefully putting in her hair. “Because a lotus is unique. It’s the true symbol of a woman’s noble and pure personality. It represents the ability to remain pure and become enlightened, even through hardships...And I believe that suits you best.” he muttered the end, feeling shy, yet not turning his head away. “You always know what to say, don’t you? You’re so smart and cool...I bet if you were a fairy, you’d have been the king of them all, for you’d have all the talents the others have.” she chuckled softly, leaning her head down just slightly, feeling bashful, her cheeks resembling just a tiny bit the shade of the flower she now so proudly represented. “And you’d be the queen of the empire.” the ghost of a smirk appeared on his face as he leaned down to kiss her forehead.

But things can’t always remain as ethereal as they are all the time, and he wasn't blind to the Crown Prince trying woo her, or at least gain her as an ally, as he realised her worth, intellect and shrewdness, and nor was he ignorant to how those obnoxious 5th, 7th and 11th princes were constantly on her tail. They don't deserve to be in her presence! They never appreciated her when she was a child, why should they now? But he was ar least relieved with the fact that he knew she has always been a smart girl and wouldn't fall in their web of lies.

That is...Until he started seeing less and less of her around he library, and more of her around the Princes and the Empress...Mainly the Crown Prince. But he could see she was beginning to lose her light, her glamour, her spark...There was something wrong, and he was worrying about her.

How pathetic of him.

Why does he even feel like that? Is that normal?

Sure, it can be normal for those mundane plebs, but not to him! He had to find a way to talk to her, since clearly, she was afraid of something.

Could she be...Blackmailed...?

One day, he found her in the tea house, so he stole the key and bribing the matron there, he prowled in and locked them inside, staring at her with his piercing eyes, watching her prepare a chrysanthemum tea.

"I've never seen you so happy to make tea for everyone who asked you." he pointed out in his usual, cold manner. "...! 3rd Prince, I didn't see you walking in!" she gasped, almost letting the teapot fall from her hands. "Of course you didn't see me. You were much too absorbed in your own mind to see me. I wonder what is troubling you so these days, Y/N." he crossed his arms, analysing her unusual spazzic behaviour. "Oh, u-uhm...Nothing too out of the ordinary. Now, please, if you'd excuse me, I must serve Her Majesty, the Empress, and the Crown Prince with tea." she sighed, hanging her head, hoping he wouldn't see her dejected expression. "You've never been the best at lying or concealing your emotions. Now, tell me the truth. I've known you for years, you can't deceive me." his voice was sharper now, hoping the extra pressure would crack her.

And it did. "I hate them...I hate them so much...I want to run away, but they are threatening me, and I can't find a way out. The Empress and that...That...That brat of hers are trying to marry me off to one of those horrible and uneducated rats that call themselves Princes...And I don't know what to do!" she slammed the tea tray on the table, and it was clear that she didn't crack - She outright shattered, just like those cups and teapots she placed so gingerly, just a few seconds prior. "So, that's it? They are threatening to marry you if you don't obey, and instead of coming to me for help, you dig a hole and hide in it. I thought you were smarter than that." he sighed, shaking his head in disbelief. "I couldn't possibly get you involved in this mess. You're already on hot waters for being the next best contestant to being an Emperor, along with Yin Zhen, and the Crown Prince hates you. The Emperor wants you to compete as well. If you get involved, it may throw your peaceful life into a complete chaos." she looked away, hanging her head in disappointment. "So you were trying to be considerate with me, I understand. Next time, I'd suggest the smarter approach, which would be communication. I can easily solve all your problems with just a two words." his voice softened, as he chuckled at her reaction. "Two words...? What do you mean...?" she looked up at him, confusion obviously plastered on her face. "Marry me." those words were so simple, so easy to say out loud, and yet, it brought complete turmoil and shock in both of them. "Wh-What ?! I-I- ...Y-You-...?! Wha-...?! B-But...?! Y-You have t-to l-love the person you're marrying, w-we can't just....S-So sudden..." she kept stuttering and rambling, her cheeks as red as his were long ago, when she kissed his cheek. "I see no problem, then." with a mischievous smirk on his face, he stepped forward, kissing her cheek, making her freeze on the spot. "...?! Y-You...You really...?! Since when? Why didn't you say anything sooner?!" her bottom lip quivered softly, frowning at him accusatory. "A long time ago. We were doing fine the way we were before, I didn't see why we should mess with perfection. But others stomped on it, and made you upset, so I have to solve this. And what better way to have you happy, by my side, then to be my bride? Nobody would dare come between us, that much, I can assure you." he explained with clear confidence, knowing very well that she melted, realising her feelings were reciprocated. "...I love you." she threw her arms around him without any warning, which he wasn't surprised by in the least, as she'd always surprise him with kisses, hugs, pinches and little gifts. "...And I love you, Tinkerbell." he muttered, stroking her hair and kissing the top of her head.

As soon as the 3rd Prince went to his father, while he was alone, for his blessings, he received what he wished for. The look of absolute dread and hatred on the faces of the Empress, the Crown prince, and the 5th, 7th and 11th princes, who realised they lost their potential bride and spy to the one everyone least expected to get married.

The 3rd Prince was, by far, the one with the most tricks up his sleeves, and that will never change.

#legend of the phoenix x reader #legend of the phoenix headcanons #legend of the phoenix #legend of the phoenix imagine #yin zhi #yin zhen #3rd prince #4th prince #crown prince #emperor #empress #5th prince #7th prince #14th prince #11th prince

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much-the-millers-kid · 4 years

Note

hey random anon here. i just wanna say i saw one of ur replies on a post abt trans ppl and i wanna say that its okay to identify as a lesbian or gay person when ur nb. nb as an identity is complicated and it took me forever to realize my most comfortable identity is identifying as an nb lesbian. and ur not necessarily an nb lesbian just cuz ur afab! but yeah its ok to identify as nb lesbian if you truly want and ur not required to explain ur identity to anyone 💙

Thank you. This is really affirming. Honestly, it is something that makes me personally feel off due to me often feeling on the more masculine end of the nonbinary spectrum. Like, since lesbian is typically defined as a girl that’s attracted to other girls, I personally feel like I’m invalidating my own view of myself by referring to myself as a lesbian.

Honestly, it comes and goes with me being genderfluid. On more masculine days, I get irked by anything that defines me more as a girl. On more feminine days, it’s not as big of a deal. (Not to invalidate other nonbinary individuals who don’t have that as something that they are uncomfortable with. This is just me.) Also there’s just force of habit because offline I’m out as attracted to girls but not as nonbinary/genderfluid. Given that I live in conservative Texas, the fact that people are accepting of that is impressive.

Probably more than you wanted to know. Long post short: I am a proud, unique individual, and language and words are weird. One of my favorite book quotes: “Find what works for you, and work it for all it’s worth” (The Cinderella Society).

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cheeedddaaarrr · 5 years

Text

Change Your Mind

“You’re my family too, Sandor.” A high school AU

A gift for @book-pirate for the Sansan Secret Santa in July.

A monster. A freak.

Something the other children like to call me every time they see me. Even those adults who act all good and understanding were no different with them labeling me with wretched names behind my back. Just because of my scarred face.

I hate this place so bad. I hate school. I hate my stupid classmates. I hate the teachers. I fucking hate Gregor for ruining my life. I hate my father for turning a blind eye to the abuse.

I absolutely loathe everything. It’s suffocating me. The looks, the scorns, the whispers, they do.

Should I be judged because of how I look?

It doesn’t matter. Nothing interests me. No friends to call without their parents telling them my life story.

He had nothing…

That was until I met her…

It was her who had changed my mind.

Sandor Clegane was seventeen when he first met Sansa Stark.

She was a new student in his school.

She was a year younger than him but he could not help but hear rumors about her the moment she transferred to his school. Lovely. Beautiful. Kind. Popular. She was everything he wasn’t. And he was confident she was either a naïve little girl or a two-faced bitch. Sandor certainly couldn’t understand her popularity. Maybe it’s the novelty of her being from Winterfell or whatnot. But the boys, no matter what year, would not shut up about the girl.

Compared to him, Sandor was a bulky and awkward looking teen who wore second handed clothes to school every day. His scarred face was hidden by his long hair. And despite constant reprimands from the teacher, he refused to cut his hair short. Added to that, his reputation of being a well-known troublemaker, the teachers either resented him or were finally tired of having to deal with his crap.

He was the Hound, damnit! He was short-tempered and vindictive to anyone. They kept chanting it. They kept looking at him as though they anticipated him to be a rebel from the start… So Sandor became one. He did what they expected him to do.

So how did the ugly hound meet the lovely little bird from Winterfell?

It all took was a single day to establish a connection between them.

Shockingly enough, it was Joffrey Baratheon who was the catalyst of their relationship.

Joffrey the psychopath was a bully. Blond, handsome and stupidly rich was all that mattered especially in a school full of impressionable kids. He was the “King” and at the top of the hierarchy. And it became apparent that he had locked on his sights to the new girl in school.

Sandor was throwing punches in the sand bag when he heard the school gym door shut, “What the f-”

There in front of him was a flustered Sansa Stark blocking the only way out. Her usually braided hair was loose and her school vest gone, leaving her clutching her unbuttoned blouse in an attempt to preserve some sort of modesty. Clicking his tongue in annoyance, he catches the attention of the girl.

Raising her pretty face at the sound, she almost screamed when her gaze fell upon his scarred face. But the sound of rambunctious male laughter made her freeze. Using her other hand, she forced herself to stay quiet.

Frowning, Sandor noted her obvious distress. Listening at the taunting male voice, he immediately identified the Baratheon spawn.

“Oh Sansa~ Why don’t we stop playing hide-and-seek and start our initiation. Don’t you want to be my girlfriend?” Baratheon snickered.

Sansa began to tremble in fear. She squeezed her eyes shut praying for it all to go away.

Sandor paused. Was it worth it to raise the ire of the blond psychopath or not?

“No need to be shy, Sansa! You looked really pretty pinned on the ground.” Baratheon kept spouting his nasty thoughts while making his other peers jeer.

Disgusted at the blond prick, Sandor made a decision. “Little bird, get over here.”

Her stunningly blue eyes made contact with his. He tried to make his face as less threatening as possible but only manage to show her a grimace. She hesitated and nodded as she began to quietly walk towards him.

Sandor pointed at the locker room, “Just stay there and keep quiet if you don’t want to get his attention.”

She wavered to get in the foul smelling room, “How can I trust you, sir?”

Scowling in annoyance, Sandor responded, “Fucking hell, little bird. I’m only a year older than you. And I am certainly no sir.”

Blushing in embarrassment, “Oh. Forgive me-”

Pushing her in the room, Sandor grunted, “Just get in and shut up.”

The moment he closed the locker room, he hears a loud bang from the gym door.

“Oh if it isn’t the Hound!” Baratheon sneered.

Sandor glared, “What the fuck do you want, Baratheon?”

“Nothing really. Just playing a game. Though have you lately seen a pretty red head pass by this room?”

“No.”

“You better not be lying to me, Hound. Or I’ll make your life even more miserable in this school.”

“Do I look like a give a fuck? And no, I did not notice some red-headed chick pass by. I was busy punching this bag to release stress but who knows I may just be tempted to do the same to some egotistical brat and his goons.”

Furious, the blond prick and his goons left after saying, “You’re lucky I’m busy with the girl or else-”

Once he was sure they were gone from the building, Sandor grabbed his school blazer and knocked at the locker room.

When he hears the door open, he shoves his blazer to her face, “Wear this.”

Sandor nearly flushes pink as he felt her fingers make contact with his but her quiet ‘thank you’ kept him controlled.

“My name is Sansa Stark,” she said the moment she felt herself looking decent.

“I know.”

“Oh.”

Awkward silence reined.

“May I know your name then?” she persisted.

“Clegane. Sandor Clegane.”

“Thank you again Sandor.” Despite his clothes almost swallowing her whole, Sansa still manage to look elegant as she offered her hand.

Ignoring her hand, he said instead, “Do I want to know what just happened?”

“I…. I was just waiting for Margaery in the classroom so we could go home together when Joffrey and his friends came in and told me it was time for my initiation….”

“Basically the initiation was him fucking you,” Sandor growled.

She flinched at his tone. Her lips began to quiver as tears fell down, “I just wanted to be friends. And they- he was so nice when we met.”

“Yeah? Well he’s a two-faced bastard, little bird.”

Rubbing her tears off with the sleeves of his blazer, “Yeah. I unfortunately got that a little too late.”

As she tried to compose herself, Sandor murmured, “Do you want me to take you home?”

“What?”

Grabbing his bag and towel, he said louder, “I’m talking you home.”

Blinking curiously, she smiled at him and gently said, “Okay.”

They left the school in silence as they walked side by side. It was unusual for Sandor because despite the silence they did not seem to feel awkward with each other.

That might as well have been a start of their friendship.

Ever since that day the two of them can be seen more or less together for most of their free time.

The first time it happened, it was Sansa who initiated contact.

Sandor was in the cafeteria with the intention to grab lunch when he felt a hand grab his sleeves. His glaring faltered when he saw the person grabbing him.

With her cheeks pink, Sansa greeted, “Hello Sandor. Do you want to eat with me?”

Before Sandor could even think of an excuse to say no, he unconsciously nodded. Seeing his affirmation, Sansa smiled brightly and began to pull him away from the cafeteria, “I made too much food earlier and wanted to share some with you! I hope you don’t mind eating with me in the school garden.”

They two left the cafeteria with the students gaping at their backs.

She didn’t seem to mind his rude and cynical attitude and he learned to tolerate her ridiculously polite manner of speaking to practically every living thing.

While Sandor began to slowly accept their budding relationship, the school reacted otherwise. The teachers looked worried and hesitant about his possible influence on her. The boys were just envious of him having spent more time with Sansa. But Sandor couldn’t really care less what they think.

He’ll be honest, it felt weird having someone constant by his side and when he told Sansa about it two months after the incident, she just looked at him with her usual unbearable understanding self.

“You can get used to it, Sandor. I was actually scared of you at first since you kept glaring at everybody. And the fact that you like to beat the crap out of anyone who looks at you wrong didn’t exactly help with my impression of you. But now, I am really glad to have been your friend. You’ve certainly changed my mind.”

He couldn’t help but grin at her words. “And I thought you would have been a pompous rich little bird but not everything is as it seems.”

Their bond grew even more when they began to spend time outside of school. She told him her interest in sewing and showed him her collection of patterns she made which he actually found impressive but just grunted in agreement at whatever was being said as she kept going on and on about color combination and stuff he could not understand.

On the other hand he brought her to the combat classes he’s been taking near his home. He began teaching her self-defense in hopes of keeping her safe in case he wasn’t be around.

Their interests may not have matched but for some god forsaken reason, they still work out.

One year passed and they were closer than ever. The teachers were now more accepting of their friendship after Sansa proved them wrong about him being a bad influence when she kept her grades up and stayed at the top. And hoping to aggravate them less, Sandor tried to avoid starting fights but will retaliate when provoked. At this point Sansa is the only one who can keep him calm.

As for the students, Joffrey actually tried to molest Sansa once again three months after his first attempt but Sandor had beaten the crap out of him. He was actually about to be expelled but Sansa furiously defended him and even brought her father to school. When Sansa bravely confessed about Joffrey’s harassment to her, her father was furious. The blond prick was forced to transfer after Ned Stark confronted Robert Baratheon of his actions. Sandor ended up having only to spend two weeks in detention.

Plus it seems he was in good graces with her family. Except for the She-Wolf, Sansa’s little sister, who was too fierce, ruthless and rough to actually be her sibling. Sansa claims she’s actually fond of Sandor but he remains cautious around the brat.

Now that Sandor was in his senior year, Sansa had asked him about his plans after high school. He admitted he wanted to join the army just to get away from his family. He also told her the real reason why his face is scarred and Sansa wept for him.

Sandor never wanted anything to do with them after all. His sister was long dead. His brother was still a terrible human being. And his father remained ignorant. He had no family he wanted to acknowledge.

Gently cupping his face, Sansa whispered to him, “Oh Sandor, even after having so many siblings I had no one I could connect with. I always wanted to be the model child to make my parents happy. It was something Arya detested about me. But ever since I met you, you’ve changed my perspective, Sandor. You’ve given me the connection I yearned.”

Her smile turned even radiant as she added, “You may think you have no one but you’re my family too, Sandor.”

Sandor Clegane had always love Sansa Stark ever since she gave him a handmade scarf the same color as her charming blue eyes as thanks for lending her his blazer. So he did not think he could fall even harder in love with his little bird. But in that moment he did.

Gently grabbing her hands from his face and placing it close to his chest, he smiled, “Thank you, little bird.”

Walking side by side, Sandor did not let go of her hand until he brought her safe back home.

One month before his graduation, Sansa confessed.

Sandor had every intention of doing so first but fear got to him. He was scared of losing the only friend that he ever had. After all she was the only person who actually took the time to understand him despite his scarred face and terrible temper. So every time he attempted to say something, he loses his nerve and changes the subject instead.

Apparently since he was taking too long, Sansa took matters into her own hands.

There were spending their lunch in the garden when Sansa said, “Sandor?”

He grunted in response as he kept shoving food in his mouth.

“You know it’s almost two years since we met... And now you’re about to graduate and leave…”

Sandor paused his eating as he tried to finish chewing the food already in his mouth. Glancing back down at her, he noticed her face become more and more pink.

“Sandor I… I-”

Realizing where this was going, Sandor wanted to confess to her first but his plans of swallowing his food too fast ended up in him almost choking which distracted Sansa from her speech as she tried to help him.

Sandor was coughing loudly and tried to get some semblance of control when Sansa gently patted his back and giggled. After a few seconds of silence, Sansa looked at Sandor straight in the face and with confidence finally said, “I love you, Sandor Clegane.”

He stared back at her and tried to control the emotions in his face and to keep cool but in the end, he could not help but grin like a fool, “I love you too, Sansa Stark.”

Three Years Later…

“We’ve been in the same unit for two years, Clegane, and I have yet to see your girlfriend!” Tormund Giantsbane said.

“Fiancée. And I have no fucking intention of letting you meet her and harass her.”

“WHAT?! I would never harm a lady!”

“I meant annoy her with your presence.”

“You wound me, Clegane! At least show me pictures!”

Raising his eyebrow, Sandor responded smugly, “A normal camera couldn’t possibly capture her presence.”

Tormund almost blushed in embarrassment, “You lovesick idiot. I can’t be-” before he could continue his rant, Sandor’s phone rang and the man immediately answered.

“Sansa,” Sandor said reverently. Standing up and leaving the office, Sandor gave Tormund the middle finger when the dwarf began making kissy noises to pester him.

“I miss you, Sandor.”

“I miss you too, little bird.”

“Soon?”

“Two more months and I’ll stationed permanently in Winterfell.”

“And in three more months and you’ll officially be part of my family, Sandor.”

Sandor grinned, “Yes.”

“You sure you don’t want to invite your friends in the army to our wedding?”

“I’d rather not. They’re too annoying.”

“Which means you like them.”

“I’m not changing my mind. I’m their squad leader. They might use the opportunity to act all chummy.”

Sansa chuckled, “Uh-huh. Well I’ve still got few more months to change your mind.”

“See you soon, Sansa.”

“I’ll see you soon, Sandor.”

#sansan #sansa stark #sandor clegane #sansan secret santa #sansan secret santa in july #book-pirate

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