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queenboudicaa · 3 years

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From Graham Linehan from The Glinner Update [email protected]

Played The Fool

Sue Donym

Sep 16

I remember my college days studying journalism, which don't seem so long ago, but actually are now, and as a young eighteen year old, a friend gives me something she says explains gender. It is Judith Butler's Gender Trouble. I have heard of this book. People treat it like The Bible. I eagerly open the book and attempt to read it.

I cannot make heads or tails of it. I conclude I simply am not smart enough or well-read enough to understand the religious revelation. I make it to page sixty before giving up, the constant mentions of ‘Althusserian’ and ‘structuralist’ and ‘reifying’ finally defeating me. I don’t feel like any of the book has actually managed to lodge itself in my head.

I give the book back to my friend, and then I pretend to everyone around me that I have read the book. No one figures me out.

When I get older, I realize they all did the same thing.

In my senior year, I win election to student government. I am to represent ‘LGBT’ people. I am proud. I am unaware I am now standing on a cliff, the ground beneath me slowly breaking. I bury my head in the sand as my position becomes increasingly precarious.

I meet with faculty during the first semester. I read through a policy. Suddenly ‘LGBT’ has morphed. It’s ‘LGBTQI+’. I don’t know what the Q and I stand for, let alone that seemingly erroneous plus sign. I am supposed to be the expert, and all these middle-aged people are looking at me to explain the youth speak which is even bedeviling I, the putative youth. I muddle through, using this surprise new acronym, and then I Google it surreptitiously in the meeting. It means ‘Queer’ and ‘Intersex’, and the plus sign appears to be decorative in nature. I wonder what the Q covers that ‘LGBT’ doesn’t, let alone the God-damned plus sign, and I wonder why ‘intersex’ needs to be included at all.

They talk enthusiastically about how everyone has a gender. There are women with penises, men with vaginas. Gender is understood to be how you feel inside. I contort my mind around this way of thinking as best I can. A man is someone who behaves like a man, and a woman is someone who behaves like a woman. That is the working definition you have, even though you paper over it with phrases like ‘identifies as.’

I don’t think about. You can’t. You are told this is how it is, how it has always been, to think otherwise is actually you replicating the kyriarchy, over and over and over again, and you nod and accept it, because you are given this set of facts and told to nod. Pseudoscience justifies it. People talk about ‘brain scans’ and ‘the wrong bodymap’, and ‘indigenous genders’. It’s all conjectural bullshit, but everyone goes along with it.

When I can’t perform the cognitive contortions, I simply don’t acknowledge contradicting evidence. To do so would be to jump off a cliff into an abyss. It is a reflexive thing, unconscious, and its origins lie in the instinct for self-preservation.

Everyone goes along with it. I am a coward, so I accept it and move on. I am twenty two years old, and I don’t know any better, and I want to trust the organizations that say they hold my best interests at heart.

Part of my role on student government was providing student-based pastoral care in my college’s LGBT center. By the time I get there, it’s morphed into the LGBTQI+ Center. I consider myself even-keeled and well-adjusted, perfect to help ‘my people’.

Many of the people that come see me have fairly normal problems. I speak to lecturers about not being homophobic, meet with faculty about LGBTQI issues, and sit through interminably boring student government meetings full of bloviating Young Democrats self-assured about their future self-importance. Increasingly, more people come to speak to me about trans issues. Walking through the center one day, someone assumes I am a ‘pre-hormones trans man’. When I correct them, and say I am a butch lesbian, they suddenly become hostile. I don’t know why, but I feel offended to my very bones about being assumed to be a man.

More and more of my fellow butches suddenly start declaring themselves to ‘truly be men.’ I don’t think about this. You’re not supposed to think about it, or question them, just accept and affirm and acknowledge and adulate their new found authenticity. I get a new package of fliers from an LGBT charity, open them up, and suddenly find that I, simply defined as ‘butch’ (forget the lesbian!) am now supposedly ‘trans’ and under the ‘trans umbrella.’ I call this ridiculous, and loudly.

Someone pulls me aside to ask why I’m being so transphobic.

I meet with a charity group. They have this young woman on staff who declares herself ‘non-binary’ and uses ‘they/them’ pronouns. She does not strike me as gay, and her entire purview of ‘LGBT’ seems to forget the first three letters. She assumes that I am a trans man. When I tell her I am a lesbian, she asks ‘are you sure? Maybe you’ll change your mind’. She then starts talking to me about her boyfriend.

I wonder why this straight girl with dyed hair is telling me what to do on gay issues. What gives her the right?

At the end of the meeting, someone I know from the charity group tells me that ‘Aiden’ is upset I forgot her pronouns. I hadn’t realized. I tell him that this dyed hair fag hag told me I’ll change my mind about being a lesbian. He says that doesn’t excuse messing up Aiden’s pronouns.

The next time I meet Aiden, she keeps calling me ‘he’. She gets upset when I get angry with her.

My student body president sends me a please explain email the next day about upsetting Aiden.

One day in the center, in walks a man in a dress. That’s what I thought in my unfiltered thoughts, before the cognitive dissonance kicks in. But the Aiden experience has taught me a lesson to not speak up. The man uses ~the magical pronouns~, ‘she/her’ and this means he is a woman. He dresses like a prostitute downtown and declares he’s a lesbian.

He says he is a trans woman. But Chloe is different from all the trans women I had met before. They would call themselves ‘gay men gone too far’, tell you hilarious stories, wingman for me at the bar, argue about ‘when Madonna went bad’, arguments that turned into handbag duels at dawn. Many of them were older, and many of them had stories about surviving in a homophobic world, surviving AIDS, dangerous johns, and the joy they felt now, that gay rights had gone somewhere. This man was very different to them.

My hair stands up on the back of my neck every time I deal with ‘Chloe’. It requires conscious effort to make sure I don’t mess up his pronouns, because my brain says that’s ‘a fucking man’, but my cognitive dissonance around the situation and my sense of self-preservation knows that if I don’t call this man a woman I will be in for it. I have seen the results - ‘Chloe’, all six feet of ‘Chloe’, screaming at a fellow trans woman, Clara, half his size, for saying ‘you’re a man honey’. Chloe himself came to me demanding I ban her from the space. I refused.

Clara stops coming into the center. I ask her why, and she says ‘those flipping transvestites, they’re not us.’ Clara never comes back to the center.

None of this thinking about Chloe’s pronouns is conscious. I feel guilty every time my thoughts use the ‘wrong pronouns’. My head is tied up in knots - not something freshman me would have considered, turning up to the center with the goal of getting laid, now trying to smile and put up with this man.

He makes every conversation in there uncomfortable. We relax when he is gone and only homosexuals are in the room.

Suddenly, my straight friends start asking if I’d ‘sleep with a trans woman’. I try laughing this off. One friend gets very insistent, and when I tell him that I wouldn’t consider someone with a dick, he starts wondering if my preferences are ‘rooted in bigotry’. I ask him if he’d sleep with a trans woman. He tells me that no, he’d prefer a woman who can have his children.

I smile and nod, and when the conversation ends, walk out of the room as fast as I can.

Chloe tells us at length about their sexual proclivities. Bondage and leather and ‘being a dom’. Chloe tells us about his lack of luck on lesbian dating apps. I keep to myself that I had ended up setting a height filter to filter out ‘the trannies.’ Nor do I tell him that me and a group of women had made fun of men like him on lesbian dating apps, swapping screenshots and Silence Of The Lambs jokes.

Soon there are more Chloes and fewer women. They all start talking about radical communism, about ‘sex work is work’, ‘cultural appropriation’, and about ‘TERFs’ and how hideous they are. One of them expounds to me at length why I shouldn’t read any feminist works from the seventies, because they hated trans women, and I wouldn’t want to hate trans women, wouldn’t I?

They all behave the same way. I keep getting reports about the Chloes harassing people in the center, particularly young lesbian women. Then there is an influx of ‘Aidens’, straight women declaring themselves to really be gay men. One of them tells me I am ‘appropriating the culture of trans men.’

One day I am in the center, and I look out the glass window of my office. There are a dozen people sitting in the common room of the center, talking animatedly. I realize none of them are lesbian or gay in the actual sense of the word. I feel uncomfortable, but I cannot articulate why I feel such discomfort.

One of the Chloes knocks on my door. This one wears a pink tube top and a pencil skirt. I am strongly reminded of Buffalo Bill. He asks me out for coffee. I decline. He asks why, as I am single. I say that I am busy that day. He tries asking for another day. I say I am playing club football that day. He keeps trying to cajole me. Eventually I dispense with the politeness and tell him I am not interested in him. He shouts at me that I am transphobic and leaves.

A few hours later, my phone blows up. His friends are calling me transphobic for not being interested in him. It’s just one date, they say. One little coffee. You might like it. You don’t know. Your last girlfriend dressed the same. You need to unlearn your genital preferences.

I think to myself my last girlfriend was a foot shorter and had a vagina, but I don’t say anything. I ignore the messages. He is allowed boundaries. I am not.

I am sitting in a class. It’s on sexual histories, a class I took to broaden my horizons from my journalism degree. I try not to think of the student loan I’ll be incurring from taking it.

Strangely enough, it is perhaps the first blow to the self-imposed contortions of my thoughts. The professor starts his lecture by pronouncing that sexual orientation is, in fact, a social construct. He explains that the word ‘homosexuality’ did not exist until the 19th century, and thus, homosexuals are a creation of repressive Victorian sexuality. I find this theory strange. I had grown up in the ‘born this way’ era, to be sure, but my homosexuality seemed biological, instinctual, basal to my very way of being. A powerful attraction to women came to me as naturally as breathing, or seeing, or farting inappropriately on the second date. Yet here was this man telling me, that in fact, my perceptions were merely constructs based on my surroundings.

It seemed strange to me. Someone from the class, notorious for asking questions, puts his hands up and asks about the Romans - you see, he is a student of the classics, and he remarks that the Romans knew of homosexuals. The professor gravely informs in that in fact the Romans were aware of a ‘behavior’, and that as ‘homosexual’ as a word did not exist at the time, there were no homosexuals. Only behaviors, that we codify and understand on a cultural basis.

This made less sense to me than before. It made even less sense to me when someone else asks about trans people. The professor remarks that ‘trans people have always existed’.

Yet homosexuals were invented by the first sexologists, rather than through self-definition? We had to have heterosexuals invent us, as other, first?

I am sitting with some gay friends, and one of them complains about the focus on trans issues when we still don’t have same-sex marriage federally yet. We talk about our disappearing spaces, and I voice that sometimes I am the only lesbian out of thirty people sitting in the LGBTQI+ student center (it had been renamed). I think of it in terms of getting laid - because suddenly all the ‘lesbians’ in the center had penises. It happened so quickly that it was easy to notice. I went to a lesbian group, and it was a sausage fest I made up an excuse to leave. The Chloes moved in, and the lesbians instantly left. I feel constantly uncomfortable, watched, stared at, envied. The Chloes all talk about their genitalia and violent pornography at length, in public, and it makes me feel gross and dirty, and I start to dislike most of them.

I post on my Tinder that I’m not into penis. I log in the next day to find out my account has been banned. Tinder never gives me a straight answer as to why I was banned.

I finish out my term on student government. I don’t run again. I’m a senior. I finish my degree and hurry off to the real world. One of the Chloes takes my place as ‘LGBTQI+ students representative’.

It is the one who tried getting me to go out on a date with him. He makes me feel uncomfortable throughout the whole handover.

I am upset, because he will destroy everything I worked for.

I go to the gay bar with some friends. But when we go, we feel like the only homosexuals in the whole god-damn bar. It’s full of people with dyed hair. A man in a dress tries grinding on me, and when I turn around and tell him no, he calls me ‘transphobic towards trans femmes’. When I declare I am a butch lesbian, people ask if I am a ‘TERF’. I don’t know what a ‘TERF’ is, other than ‘terfs’ are bad. I have been told terfs are bad, so it has to be true right? I don’t want to be a bad person.

I try going to other gay events, and suddenly I am outnumbered. Me, a few older lesbians, and some gay men huddle in a corner of spaces we once proudly called our own, as the Chloes and the Aidens declare it their own - and even worse, that they are just the same as us. It is unnerving, and they no longer feel like safe spaces for me. Gradually, we all stop going. There were no more gay people in the gay space.

I have a lesbian friend. She tells me excitedly about a first date. She meets them in a quirky coffee shop. It is a trans woman twice her size. When she tells the trans woman that she’s not interested, they lose it at her in the coffee shop, calling her a transphobic bigot and screaming and shouting and threatening to hit her.

She tells me, because she knows I don’t tell people things. But she cannot say anything in public. She’ll be transphobic. So she keeps it to herself, and this man gets to continue preying on women who think they’re safe, catfishing, coercing and abusing them.

To say otherwise gets you labelled a terf. And terfs are bad. Why are terfs bad? Don’t ask. Just accept that terfs are bad. Terfs hurt trans women, and you wouldn’t want to do that, would you?

Eventually, my friend hears of her date doing it to someone else. She writes a call out post, saying that you shouldn’t hide important facts about yourself on dating sites. She gets called a terf for saying that ‘lesbians don’t have dicks’, and being verbally abused in public was the rational response of an oppressed person to oppression. It’s a scarlet letter, and she is branded with it. I am a coward and I do not speak up in public. I hate myself. I am thinking of my personal prospects, and not my friend, and not my people. Because if I speak up, I can kiss the career I dream about goodbye. I fear that scarlet letter being branded on my forehead.

I tell my friend in private that I support her. But I daren’t say that in public.

I daren’t ask questions.

One day, I am aimlessly browsing the internet at work. I have written enough copy to cover my ass for the next few weeks. I wait until my boss leaves for the afternoon, and wait out the rest of the day mindlessly scrolling. I see a post in an LGBTQI+ students group on Facebook I’ve forgotten to leave. It’s a troll post, which is apparently ‘terf rhetoric’. The link is still there, and the comments are blowing up, united in performative outrage.

I click the link . I find myself laughing at the description of ‘men in dresses’. To these ‘terfs’, a man has a penis, and a woman has a vagina. Anyone saying otherwise is a damned fool. It seems such an easy way to think about it. I mean, what is a woman, anyway? It doesn’t seem evil, wicked or bad. It seems… sensible.

Finding out more about this new way of thinking becomes addicting. I keep my scrolling through it on my phone. I have always had a fondness for reading people being harshly critical about anything, and now I have an endless source of it, articulating things I knew instinctually but could never find the words to verbalize, could never find the courage to verbalize. I wonder if I am being radicalized - images of ISIS radicalizing fighters over the internet run through my head. But everything seems to make so much sense. I am no longer contorting my thoughts around the desires of others, but thinking freely, observationally, openly, fearlessly.

It felt like my mind had freed itself from chains, chains placed upon it all those years ago, when that naïve eighteen year old who wanted to get laid tried reading Gender Trouble.

The gunk on my mind slowly unclogged. My way of thinking suddenly changed. I was no longer denying what my eyes saw in front of me. No, now I saw things as they were. There was no more contorting my way of thought. For the first time in a long time, I felt clear-headed.

One of the links I clicked in my flurry was a link to Dr. Ray Blanchard’s paper on ‘autogynephilia’. I read it, and finally, I had an explanation. Homosexual transsexuals. And ‘autogynephiles.’ The two types of his famous and controversial typology.

‘Autogynephiles’ - men who had a sexual fetish for ‘being a woman’, a fetish for an alter-ego female self, a fetish for our bodies, our minds, our souls, our experiences. All reduced to jerk-off fodder for some blockhead man.

It explained why they were so desperate for lesbians to date them. They needed us for validating their sexual fetish. Our lives and experiences, our spaces, our dating apps, our culture, our media, our websites, every breath we took, as far as they were concerned, needed to be focused on validating them. Because otherwise, the fantasy was ruined! This straight man would not be able to jerk off over ‘being a lesbian!’. We were not people, we were non-player-characters in their video game. Actresses in pornography, extras in a film where they were the protagonist, and we were off script. We weren’t fully-formed people, with our own desires, we were things, objects, film props.

The entire gay movement, from the lesbians to the gays, to the homosexual transsexuals, reduced to nothing props in some straight man’s sexual fantasy. That’s all we were to them, ultimately.

And I was expected to go along with it?! We were all expected to go along with it?

Not only that, I had gone along with it. I had advocated for this.

What had I done?

Every moment you come close, every moment you start thinking something isn’t right, you start feeling a little foolish.

Of course this is fine. Everyone is telling me so. The media, the public, the people around you. No one voices concerns. When you have them, you don’t say anything, because no one else is, and because you are a coward.

You feel a little foolish because this is foolish. Saying some women have penises is foolish. You know it is foolish, from the minute that idiot phrase leaves your mouth, to the minute it dances across your tongue, to the minute your nerves send the signal to your larynx to make the required movements to produce the very sounds. But, you think, you are no fool.

You are no fool, you think, when someone says ‘biological women have XY chromosomes’, or that it’s okay for a man on the college track team to identify as a woman and take a place on the woman’s track team. You know that’s not right. But everyone else is going along with it, and you are no fool, and you shouldn’t feel foolish, because everyone says this is the right thing to do, the right side of history, doing right by an oppressed minority, so you go along with it.

You are frightened of realizing you are a fool. So too, is everyone around you. No one likes being played the fool, no one likes realizing they were sold a pack of lives as a naïve eighteen year old looking for other gay people. And no one plays you for a fool. And thus the dance continues, everyone one too frightened to admit that, perhaps, we are all fools, believing in something physically impossible, no different to the bible-banging megachurch attendee, with our owns chants, our own magic words, ritual knowledge, and ability to be born again. We are smart. We liberal. We are on the right side of history. We couldn’t be believing in something that isn’t scientifically backed. We’re smarter than that. We’re not fools.

And when it finally gets too much, and you drift over to the cliff’s edge, the cliff that you can see the bottom of, the cliff you know you can’t come back from, you pull away. Because to go over it would to be to admit that you’ve been played the fool. No one likes that feeling, the shame, the embarrassment, the horror, the fear. What lies over that cliff is exile, a scarlet letter, fear and hatred and nasty women who just want trans women dead.

What lies beyond that cliff is a realization that you have been used. You have been used by something greater than yourself, to push medication on children. You have been used by straight men to participate in their sexual fetish without your consent. Your entire community, rendered a jerk-off prop for some straight man over night, and you were told that objecting was ‘transphobic’. You have been used to spread homophobia beyond your comprehension, to take part in the destruction of your own community, and you were told this was right and good.

To realize this, to acknowledge it, to move on and try and forge something better, that takes true strength of character. To realize this, to deny it, and obfuscate what you are doing, that I can understand. I too, was once a coward. I too, did not want to believe what my eyes told me was sitting in front of me. That cliff is scary, and to jump off it seemingly lies nothing but social death.

But eventually something pushes you over, without your consent. You realize you have been played the fool, because finally, something so gratuitous occurs that you must. Even the greatest cowards will eventually be blown off the cliff. The music will stop, and the dance will end, and you will finally feel the shame, the embarrassment, the horror, the fear, the guilt.

Because no one likes being played for a fool.

Perhaps, then, it is best to get this over and done with now, while you still have dignity to defend.

Some details have been changed to protect the identities of those concerned.

#radical feminism #radical feminists #transwomen #transwomens bodies look awfully similar to mens bodies #radfem #radfem community #graham glinner #butch #lesbian #lgbt #lgb

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commonwealthoccurences · 3 years

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Companions React: Institute Offers Surgery To Intersex Sole

Note: Please let me know if I mishandled this or anything came across as insensitive so I can come back and fix it! I would hate to make anyone feel misrepresented or offended by the way this was written. Thank you and thank you for reading.

CW: Uh, a lot of anger and violence mentions. Lots of swearing.

The Scenario: Every time Sole sat the companion down for a serious conversation they lost about ten years off their life; no one ever did that to give good news. As soon as Sole announced they had something to tell the companion, they sat and looked up at Sole warily. After a moment, Sole took a deep breath and sat down across from them. “Do you know what intersex means?” They asked.

“Yeah.” The companion’s tone was more questioning than anything.

“I’m intersex. And I want… your opinion on something. The Institute offered, uhm, surgery. If you catch my drift.”

Cait:

Cait felt fury rise in her as soon as the words left Sole’s mouth. “And did ya ask for it first?” She stood, fists clenched.

Sole shook their head and looked down at their clasped hands, trying to push away their internal confliction to listen to Cait. “Then it’s none of their goddamn business, ya hear me? You’re perfect the way ya are, and unless taking up their offer is gonna make you happier, they can stick their offer where the sun don’t shine!” She was indignant, practically shouting by the end of her speech.

Sole laughed at Cait’s way with words, comforted by the fact that she was so furious on their behalf. “Thank you.” They replied quietly.

“Gods, they have nothin’ but audacity. Can you imagine?!” She was talking to herself at that point.

Cait paused and shook her head. “Now listen. I’m not gonna tell ya one way or another, ya know how I feel about them. If it would make ya happy it’s worth it. But never let anyone tell ya to change a goddamn thing. Especially not the Institute, of all people!”

Curie:

“I’m afraid I don’t understand. Why would they offer surgery if there’s nothing wrong?”

Sole laughed quietly. Curie was nowhere near naive, but she had yet to deal with the full spectrum of human ignorance. “It’s, uh. How do I put it? For some people, it makes them more comfortable since it’s what’s... expected.”

“And you? Would it make you more comfortable? That’s the only thing that matters.”

“I don’t know… I don’t think so. I think I’m just fine.”

“Then that’s it. You’re just fine. They should mind their own business.”

Curie stood, smoothing out the front of her shirt as she looked around thoughtfully. “Quite insulting that they were in your business like that.” She shook her head. “Disgraceful. They call themselves scientists, yet have no respect.”

Danse:

Danse had no hesitation when it came to getting angry at the Institute, but this was a whole different level. The absolute nerve astounded him. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, reigning in his anger at the fact that they would so blatantly disrespect Sole. “How do you feel about it?” He asked. After all, their opinion was the most important.

“Offended, to be honest.” They let out a short, wry laugh. “I don’t think I want it.”

“There’s no reason to change yourself to appease the absolute ignorance of an institution that helps no one. They don’t have your best interests at heart, so unless getting the surgery would make you happier, I’ll make sure you get to blow the first charge when we get rid of them.”

Sole laughed. “I’ll take you up on that offer.”

Deacon:

“What?”

“They offered surgery.”

“No, I think I must’ve heard you wrong. You’re not saying they offered you surgery because you’re intersex, right?”

Sole nodded, biting at their bottom lip in discomfort. Deacon simply began to laugh dryly, though his clenched fists and the twitching of his upper lip showed he was very obviously not impressed, nor humored. “Bold bastards. I’m sorry they’d insult you like that, Sole, you deserve better.” There was a beat of silence. “I should’ve asked first; do you want the surgery? Would that make you happier?”

Sole shook their head. “No. I’m good the way I am.”

Deacon smiled and nodded, lifting his arm for a fistbump. “Exactly.”

The two stood and returned to their tasks, silence reigning in the small room as they both got lost in thought. After a couple moments of Deacon tinkering with his weapon and Sole writing down their inventory list, they were startled by Deacon slamming his screwdriver down. “The absolute nerve of them, though! What the fuck?”

Sole simply laughed in response, shaking their head. They had no idea either.

Gage:

“And you shot them, right? Their brains are currently splattered across their grossly clean walls, right?” Gage’s gaze was intensely stern.

Sole shook their head, tempted to laugh at his protectiveness. “No. I didn’t, don’t think I would’ve made it back in one piece if I did.”

“You’re not gonna listen to them, right? They’re sick as fuck, Sole, I wouldn’t trust their standard for anything as far as I could throw one of their scientists.”

“No, I didn’t listen to them. They’re considered fucked up for a reason, Gage. I know better. It just… sucked. That they thought it was obvious or something.” Sole shook their head and played with the sleeve of their shirt. “I dunno.”

“I’ll kill them. Say the word. I swear to God.”

Sole laughed. “You can’t take on the entire Institute, Gage.”

“Watch me. Those pieces of shit need to learn their place.”

Hancock:

Hancock said nothing and simply opened up his arms. Being confronted with the fact that certain parts of society considered you different was nothing strange to him, and he knew how much it could sting. When they accepted his offer and rose from their seat to fold themself into his arms, he felt his anger surge to a new level. How dare they make them feel this way? Carefully, he rubbed their back. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” They replied, voice muffled in his coat. “Just insulted, y’know.”

“Yeah, I get it, sweetheart.” Hancock moved his hand to squeeze their shoulder. “We’ll get those bastards back, and then some, yeah?”

Sole nodded and pulled away with a resigned sigh. “Don’t worry your pretty head over it. Their opinion means nothing, y’know? God knows I’ll have to ruin them if they stress you out.”

MacCready:

“Fu-fri-no, y’know what? They deserve it! Fucking pieces of shit!” Mac cursed, voice raised.

Sole looked up at him, a bit stunned by the outburst. “Sorry.” He muttered, turning his head away. “What did you tell them? How do you feel about it?”

They shrugged. “I don’t want it, I’m pretty sure. Thought about it a lot. I just wanted your opinion, I guess.”

“What the hell does my opinion have to do with it? Whatever makes you happy is priority, Sole. Both the Institute and I can get screwed if we try to interfere with that.”

They gave him a small smile. “Thanks Mac.”

MacCready nodded and reached over to squeeze their shoulder in reassurance. He shook his head at the situation, but gave them a smile. “It’s gonna be alright, Sole. Don’t take anything they say seriously.”

Nick:

Nothing about this surprised him, and he had to roll his eyes at the Institute’s audacity. “Yeah, sounds like them. What did you say?”

“I said I wasn’t interested. I don’t know, I thought about it and it’s not something I care to get done.”

Nick nodded and fumbled with his cigarette, watching the smoke plume thoughtfully. “As long as you’re happy, yeah? I’ll walk back into that hellhole and hold your hand the entire way if you need me to.”

Sole grinned. The detective was short with words, but he always knew what needed to be said. “Thanks, Nick, but that’s not something you’ll need to worry about.”

He tapped the ash off his cigarette. “Good. They’re idiots anyway, you don’t need to change a thing.”

Piper:

Piper hadn’t felt rage overcome her that way in such a long time. Her hands shook as she placed her head in her hands and took a deep breath. “Bastards!” She cursed, then, “Sorry, Blue. What did you say?”

Sole shook their head. “I said no.”

Piper nodded and smiled bitterly. “Good.” She stood and stepped away, biting at the skin next to her nails. “Who even says something like that out of the blue? Like that’s a normal offer to make?” She threw her hands up, eyebrows narrowed in enraged confusion.

Preston:

Preston resisted the urge to clench his jaw. Maybe this was something Sole wanted, maybe it would make them feel more comfortable, despite the fact that the offer was coming from somewhere disgusting. “How do you feel about it?”

“Kind of insulted, actually. It’s not really any of their business, and I definitely didn’t ask.”

Preston nodded and pressed his lips together, cracking his knuckles absentmindedly. “We should check in with Sturges on how close to complete the plan is.” The look in his eyes conveyed all the anger Sole needed to see.

They sighed. “It’s not worth getting riled up over, Preston, really. I dunno. I suppose it might’ve been coming from a place of concern, albeit ignorant concern.”

“I won’t start something over it if you don’t want me too, but there’s a few choice words I’d love to get their way before we blow them into the sky.”

X6-88:

X6’s expression grew colder. “There was a mistake.” He stated simply.

“No, Six. They meant it.”

“Which scientist was this? What team?” He asked, calm despite the chill his expression was sending through Sole.

“Uhm, I’m not sure the specifics of her team. Doctor O’hara, with the medical staff. I was in there for vaccinations.”

X6 nodded and stood, movements stiffer than usual, which was saying something. “And this question. It was invasive and disrespectful, if I wasn’t mistaken by your tone?”

Sole nodded, not sure where he was going with this line of conversation. “I will be… speaking to her supervisor.” They had to raise an eyebrow at the inflection they gave to “speaking.” They watched him leave, wondering if they should say something, before blowing out a sigh. They’d hate to be part of that team right now.

#Fallout 4 #fo4 #companions react #fluff #hurt comfort #Cait #Curie #Deacon #Paladin Danse #Gage #Mayor Hancock #RJ MacCready #Nick Valentine #Piper #Preston Garvey #X6-88

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expiredfairydust · 3 years

Text

best friends ~ bubblegum rock/kazuleon || ft. nb gay! kaz || pt. 2

//tw: self hatred, kinda internalised homophobia, uncensored F slur bcoz the author can reclaim it//

a loud gasp forced the two to pull away from their kiss quickly, both of them quickly moving to look in the direction of where the noise had come from.

kazuichi went red due to embarrassment, noticing the unmistakable blonde hair of miss sonia darting away.

she had poked her head around the door to souda’s room - they never locked it in case leon wanted to come and cuddle - meaning to ask the pinkette if they’d been given any homework as she had been in first aid for most of the day before, unaware of what was happening between the mechanic and their crush.

and now she was running off, trying to give the pair privacy. souda, panicking because their illusion of heterosexuality was likely being broken, ran after her, calling “miss s-sonia! wait!! i-i swear it’s not what it looks like i’m s-sorry miss sonia you’re the only one i love i swear!!” they were crying for real now at the realisation that they had just ruined the one thing that was theirs.

the blonde suddenly stopped in her tracks and turned back to kazuichi. her face had an odd expression that kazuichi couldn’t read.

she put a hand over the mechanic’s mouth. “you do not understand souda, i do not care about you and kuwata’s relationship! in fact, i am glad because now you can leave me and miss fukawa to our relationship in peace - i was and still am rather disgusted at your lack of knowledge on personal boundaries but now i do not have to worry about that because you have no reason to!” she spoke slightly forcefully without meaning to. when she was done, she took her hand away and started walking off again.

“miss sonia!! i-i-i-“ kazuichi couldn’t gather their words, thousands of thoughts racing through their head. “we’re not dating... it was.. it was only a kiss....” they would mumble, more tears streaming down their face with every word. “i-it was all my fault anyways... i-i.. i was.. i was the one who kissed him and it was so so stupid of me because he’s the only person i have left and now he probably hates me for- for-“

their voice cracked and they couldn’t go on speaking, their legs giving way underneath them. “for being such a disgusting fucking faggot!! and-and-and i don’t blame him because i hate myself too!!” they were practically shouting now. “but dammit i love him so fucking much! so much, it hurts! god it feels like my heart is being ripped apart and i can’t fix it and i don’t know what to do and i hate that! and even if i could ever tell him properly i just know he’d hate me because who could ever like such a pathetic little FAG”

they didn’t know why they were telling all of this to miss sonia, maybe it was because they didn’t want her to think leon’s standards were so low as to date them. maybe they just needed to let everything out, needed to rant. because the moment they opened their mouth the words seemed to vomit out.

and once they were done ranting they ran off to the loos so they could actually vomit, as they often did out of distress. they ran to the far away disabled loos, on the opposite end of campus - they were the only public gender neutral loos on campus - so they wouldn’t have to face leon again, who they assumed was still in their room.

key word: assumed.

because leon had actually heard every word, only a few paces behind kazuichi during their confession. he had ran to try and take the mechanic in his arms, to say that it was okay because he loved them that way back. he had ran, just as kazuichi ran off.

meanwhile the princess was just happily beaming to herself, knowing that leon heard every word. she had successfully wingwomanned for the creep and the punk! it was a double win, as leon tended to flirt with touko as well as kazuichi’s horrible attempts to look straight by chasing after miss sonia herself. she made her way to her girlfriend’s dorm to tell her all about what she did.

leon’s thoughts were racing, as he tried to figure out what was even happening. kaz was in love with him... kazzy loved him back... but they thought that kiss was all their fault? as if leon hadn’t chosen to kiss them too? and now they thought he hated them? why? why would he kiss them if he hated them? god kazuichi was a dumb bitch at the best of times...

leon couldn’t help but smile through his tears, which he hadn’t noticed either.

kazuichi really loved him back..!

him!

but they thought leon felt the opposite...

right...

well, leon would just have to change that, he decided as he started looking for his best friend. he knew the mechanic got physically unwell when they were unwell, so he’d just have to check all the loos until he found the right one!

except kazuichi was nonbinary and relatively androgynous, so the baseball star had no clue which loos they’d be in, and he couldn’t exactly barge into the women’s loos checking to find his friend.

so, that meant he’d have to find ibuki, who had joined his band, and ask nya to check the girls’ loos while he checked the men’s and disabled loos. nya was also non binary, but at least she passed as a girl enough to enter the women’s loos.

it wasn’t hard, seeing as the noise they made made all over on the other side of the campus-

(conveniently close to one of the only gender neutral loos on campus)

-was loud enough to be heard in another country. leon was regretting leaving his ear plugs in kaz’s dorm, as he plugged his ears with his fingers and ran towards the sound.

“IBUKI!!!!” he yelled once he was in the practice room mioda was in.

“WHAT?!?”

“WHAT???”

“WHAT?!”

this was going to be tedious, leon thought, as he moved towards where everything was plugged in and unplugged the speakers.

ah, silence,,, at least it would’ve been if mioda wasn’t screeching at leon for what he did. “jesus christ calm down ibuki! i need you for something important” leon hissed, ibuki going completely quiet at the word “important” - void loved being helpful!

the bubbly musician sped off to search once leon explained what he needed. knowing nya, she’d probably check all the men’s loos too, void didn’t seem to get what made people so iffy about not sharing a bathroom with different genders.

but with that, leon got to looking too. and it wasn’t long before he heard the sound of sobbing in the disabled loos, accompanied by the sound of vomiting. well, there’s kaz...

he knocked on the door “kazzy?” he tentatively spoke. there was the click of the door being unlocked for leon to enter. he soon dropped to the floor, next to the pinkette, pulling them into his lap and holding them tightly. “shshshhh... i’m here kazzy...” the ginger would whisper sweetly into souda’s ear.

he held the younger student’s hair back as they puked again. “now how about you tell me what’s going on in that mind of yours?” he whispered, despite knowing already. he wanted kazuichi to say it again. to him, not to miss sonia.

but kaz didn’t want to talk. “it’s stupid” they said, snuggling against leon.

“if it’s stupid why don’t you say it?”

“coz you’ll hate me even more than you do for kissing you” their words were hard to understand through their tears.

“what makes you think i hate you? if i hated you, would i be here with you now? c’mon how about you wash your mouth out? all that puking must have left a horrible taste” leon spoke with a gentle tone, which was unlike him but comforting to the sobbing boy in his lap.

once almost all traces of puke had been ridden from the mechanic’s mouth, leon sat them on his lap again, holding them tightly. “how about you tell me what’s wrong now, eh kazzy?” he said sweetly, wiping his best friend’s tear stained cheeks with his sleeve.

“promise you won’t hate me?”

“pinky promise”

the pinkette drew a deep breath, getting ready to speak. then shook their head. “i-i can’t”

a realisation dawned upon leon then. this was his chance to reveal his own secret! “i’ll tell you something about me that i’ve been hiding if that would make you feel any better” a slow nod gave him the ok to speak.

“i’m intersex. when i was born the doctors told my mom and dad and they were.. well, i don’t know how they felt but i was forced into an opporation to make me “fully” male as a baby and all my life i’ve had to take medication to keep my hormones at a “normal male” level, which is odd coz i was never actually told that’s what it was for until recently” the ginger spoke, resting his head on kazuichi’s shoulder

“but, i want to stop taking my meds, i don’t want to be 100% a boy, and that decision kinda scares me in case people won’t accept it. in case you don’t accept it” he added after hesitating. “now do you wanna talk about your problem?” he wanted to change the subject.

kaz had gone quiet. then, after a few seconds they said. “it sounds silly now that you’ve told me how serious yours is... but- but-“ they paused to figure out the words they wanted to say. “i-i- i’m so sorry for kissing you! i had no right to do it and i-i- i didn’t even take the time to ask you if you wanted a kiss and- and- and- i’m so sorry i know you hate me for it and i don’t blame you because i totally deserve it” the words seemed to fall out quicker than kazuichi could think of them

“and i know you probably never want to see me again but if you could ever forgive me i’d really appreciate it because you’re the only friend i’ve got and i love you dude!” as those words came out, the pink haired mechanic started tearing up again. “i-i love you... i love you so much it hurts and i don’t know what i’d ever do without you but i totally understand if you hate me because how could you ever love someone who’s such a disgusting f-“

their words were cut off by leon kissing the shorter mechanic. it was a brief kiss, even shorter than their first, but the pure, raw emotion behind it was clear. love. reciprocated love.

“if i thought you were disgusting, why would i choose to kiss you twice? because now you know it sure as hell weren’t just you who wanted that first kiss” leon said simply, wiping the shorter guy’s tears away. “but i don’t still want to be friends,” he said, suddenly going cold, making the pinkette’s face drop. “i want to be boyfriends!” he said, making kazuichi start laughing with relief.

just as they were about to share another kiss, in barged mioda, yelling about how nya had found the pink haired mechanic, then once void noticed the ginger sat next to them and started yelling about how unfair it was that she had been looking all over for kazuichi for leon when the ginger was probably with them the whole time.

the couple smiled and sheepishly promised to make it up to the ultimate musician. the end.

#bubblegum rock #kazuleon #soudawata #kazuichi souda #leon kuwata #leon x kazuichi #kazuichi x leon #fanfic #dr fic #dr fanfiction #gay #nb gay #fag life fag life

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a-stitch-in-time-and-space · 3 years

Text

In relation to an ask I got about Julian Bashir:

this ask I got has ideas about Julian essentially being forced through gender related surgery in connection with his augmentation.

So for starters, I’m not intersex, so I won’t try to go into details, just noting that this obviously brings to mind bullshit that intersex people have to go through and so that thinking will be laced through the text!

under the cut for length, no details about igm, but obviously if the idea is distressing don’t read - kind of meta that dovetails into a sort-of fic:

I wonder if the show had decided to do something like that, what would have inspired it/would they have realised that this is very much not a scifi concept even by a lot of their “this is the loosest of allegories you could allegory” standards.

The show does have a habit of doing things that makes me go “hey, wait, wha- was that… with awareness?” Ex. Soren in TNG self-identifying as a woman, everything Trill-related in the 90s, or even Quark getting easy reassignment surgery (disclaimer: always am torn on being like “yay, I guess no waiting lists for trans people ever again + the argument of “regret” clearly can’t exist any more + this a world where people… accept???” and… what it actually is. Which is a “women vs men” sexist as hell joke.)

I spoke about gender there, not because I’m equating, just because it’s stuff related to myself as an enby that I clung to. But also because if surgery isn’t a big-deal in the future then perhaps gender isn’t either? Which obviously isn’t true, because Star Trek mirrors the reality of the world it’s actually made in and makes abundantly clear that things’re still inherently gendered (moreso in some places than others).

So we ask why they might want to do something like this:

1. There are still biases against having a girl vs having a boy on an institutional level around the federation

2. They personally just can’t stop messing with Julian, maybe they had their heart set on “a boy” in the same way they wanted him to be “smarter” and “taller” etc. And they just suck (they do)

3. Julian is intersex and this is not an allegory at all even a little bit

Even if it was an allegory, it’d still be a pretty direct one, but just wanted to let you know how my brain is considering all of this, because I’ve never thought about it like that before, as my hcs about Julian were always that he chose any of the surgery he got in relation to his gender as a reclamation of his body (which he might still have made decisions about when he could, but for now gonna try and not tangent too much)

so let’s assume that you can’t just get a any kind of reassignment surgery and it’s just that ds9 is so far on the edge of the federation that general checks and balances in relation to “hey lets turn our friendly neighbourhood Ferengi into a woman” don’t exist out there like they do closer to earth.

And Julian personally is really fucking good at this surgery – why? Maybe because he’s made it part of his goal to know as much as possible about it, since it was done to him without his consent as a child.

Maybe what they did was “sort out” more obvious markers – anything on the outside of his body basically, and they left the womb, because nobody would notice that, which would make Julian saying he had one a slip-up up in that episode with Kira getting the O’Briens baby.

At the time people don’t know he’s an augment, so he probably wouldn’t be wanting to run around and have anyone ask him questions about surgeries that aren’t on his record – luckily nobody does.

In some ways this violation is the one he’s the most traumatised about to the extent that he can’t even speak about it to his parents, barring the one piece of selfhood he’s defiantly demanded: “I’m Julian, goddamit!”

They know why – of course they know. But like so much else they don’t talk about, they somehow seem to assume that not speaking makes it forgivable, invisible, erasable. It’s not.

After he’s been outed, once he has started interacting with the other augments, there’s a lot that he holds back – he’s not like them after all, not really. And to admit kinship is to open doors he’s been so afraid of opening for so long, that fear might as well be his truest expression of self.

It’s not until after the Dominion War, after deaths, imprisonment, torture, being outed and seeing others like him ostracised, mental health issues and a failed relationship with Ezri – not until after all that does he reach out to Sarina again, ask for forgiveness for trying to make her – and by extension himself – “normal.”

It’s not until then he can slowly begin to unpack everything about himself that he’s kept back, for fear it’d prove others right - - how he doesn’t feel entirely like a real person, just a collection of parts that were forced upon him, how he’s scared about what being proud of any bit of himself might be taken as, how he let down Sarina and the others - - and what his parents “threw in” to sweeten the deal.

And Sarina admits to him: she has the same fears, the same self-doubt, the same sadness. She asks Julian about preferred pronouns, about how he thinks of himself, about whether there’s anything he would want to do to own himself more…

For now, just the talking is good. And maybe they can meet up with the others again soon, this time without shame.

#julian bashir #ds9 #st: ds9 #star trek #star trek meta #julian bashir meta #ds9 meta #my writing #possibly intersex julian #i might go more into detail about things later on for now these are my first musings #tw allusions to igm

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andersunmenschlich · 3 years

Text

Genesis 2

That’s the end of creation! That’s how absolutely everything got created, bar none, creation finished, over, done, finito. No more creating. Bible says this “everything done” day is the seventh, so I guess the time before light and darkness got separated actually does count as a day. Who knew.

The gods, that’s who.

Anyhow, the gods made the seventh day a holy day, set apart as super special because that’s when they finished all the creating. The first day ever that they didn’t do any creating at all. They were done.

And now, suddenly, in verse four, the writer changes.

No, I’m not kidding. It’s a very abrupt shift. Most noticeably, we’re not talking about the gods in general anymore: “אֱלֹהִ֖ים” is now always prefaced by “יְהוָ֥ה”—Yhvh, a specific god! “Gods” gets used like a last name now. It’s like, instead of “the Millers did thus-and-such,” now it’s “Alex Miller did thus-and-such.”

New writer. Real obvious.

Anyway! Our new divinely inspired writer takes us back to before the gods told the earth to sprout plants.

This writer tells us that the reason there weren’t any plants was because Yhvh God hadn’t made it rain or created Adam to aerate and fertilize the ground. Strange. I’d gotten the impression that there weren’t any plants because the gods hadn’t created them yet.

Our new writer also tells us that mist rose from inside the earth and watered the ground. Huh.

That would seem to make the lack of rain unimportant. Why say that there weren’t any plants because there was no rain when rain wasn’t needed?

Weird.

Anyway, Yhvh God took some dirt and shaped it into a kind of golem, then breathed into its nose, and poof! Adam.

Uh.

The plants still haven’t been created. I definitely remember Adam coming after the plants.

Land, space, water, and darkness—light, night, and day—sky—sea, dry land, plants—sun, moon, and stars—sea creatures and flying things—land animals—then Adam. And after Adam, nothing except deciding what everything but the sea creatures are going to eat.

Adam was last. I remember that very clearly (it was only ten or eleven verses ago). What kind of divinely inspired contradiction is this?

Ow, no, don’t throw things.

I’m just confused, that’s all. I don’t know how Adam could be created both before and after the plants. Probably I’m stupid. The Bible couldn’t be wrong, after all! Somehow, I’m sure, the gods created Adam male and female on the sixth day and Yhvh God created Adam plain old male on the third day. I don’t know how that’s possible. But the Bible says it happened, so it must have.

Ah, I know. The first writer messed up the plurals and singulars. Divine inspiration ruined by mortal stupidity! There’s only one god—Yhvh God—and there were two Adams, one male and one female.

...Except that still leaves the problem of those two Adams being made on both the third day and the sixth. Uh.

And wait, this new writer says there was only one Adam, one single male Adam.

...Okay, so the first writer messed up hard, then. They wrote “gods” instead of “god.” They said one intersex Adam… or maybe two Adams, one male and one female… were created on the sixth day instead of one male Adam being created on the third.

That’s… that’s some serious error right there.

Ow! Ow! Quit it!

Look, it’s not my fault! I’m not trying to make the Bible inconsistent! It’s just, look! First the Bible says man was created after the plants and now it says man was created before the plants!

This isn’t my fault! I didn’t make it say that! It just says it, all on its own!

Ow!

All right, all right!

So maybe I misread? Maybe the first part wasn’t meant to be read in a strictly linear way? I know it’s all “this happened, then this happened, then this happened—the first day. This happened, then this happened—the second day.” But maybe you’re supposed to skip around? Maybe the things that apparently happen in one day are actually happening in another?

…That’s stupid! No! I can’t convince myself of that at all!

Ow, ow, okay! Maybe I just don’t understand it because I’m the stupid one, and I’ll never be able to understand it no matter how hard I try—not because it’s dumb, but because I am. Fine, fine, you win, I give up.

So, after creating Adam, Yhvh God creates a garden in a place called Pleasure (“עֵדֶן,” Eden), and sticks Adam in the garden. Yhvh God also makes all kinds of trees that are pretty and/or produce tasty fruit grow in the garden, as well as the tree of Life and the tree of Being Able to Tell the Difference Between Good and Bad.

Side note to tell us about a river that runs through the garden, then splits into four rivers, each of which runs through or along a different place.

The original river doesn’t get a name, but the other four are Increase, Bursting Forth, Rapid, and Fruitfulness. Increase runs through the land of Circle (which has just the best gold, you guys, and awesome gum resin and precious stones, too). Bursting Forth goes through the land of Black. Rapid runs along the east side of Assyria. And we all know Fruitfulness, everyone knows the Euphrates, no need to explain that any further here.

Why this is important, I don’t know. Scene-setting? Nobody’s been able to find the garden of Pleasure using these directions, so it can’t be for that. Anyway, I’m sure Yhvh God knew perfectly well, when he was inspiring this writer, that a worldwide flood was gonna seriously change topography later on.

So the idea is that Adam will be a gardener.

No, this is obvious. There were no plants because there was no man to cultivate the ground? Adam gets put in the garden to tend and keep it?

There’s a reason man exists, and it’s to look after Yhvh God’s plants.

Ow! What?

Oh, the whole “dominate every living thing and even the earth itself” thing? Look. I’m not sure how much I want to trust that first writer, what with their gods and adams and plants being created before humans and all.

Yeouch! Dagnabbit, what?

I can’t throw out any of the Bible? I have to make all of it make sense, all together?

But it contradicts!

Ow! Stop it!

Okay, okay, it doesn’t contradict! I’m stupid! Men exist both to look after plants and to dominate everything, they were created on the third day and on the sixth day, they were spoken into being and they were dirt brought to life, they were male and female and they were just male!

Yhvh God told Adam he could eat fruit from every tree in the garden except anything off the tree of knowing the difference between good and bad, because if he ate anything from that tree “מ֥וֹתתָּ׃ מֽוּת”—he’d be as dead as dead gets that very day.

Then Yhvh God gets to thinking that maybe it’s not great for Adam to be alone.

Uh.

Don’t hit me, but didn’t Adam have Yhvh God? Like… was he really alone? God was there! I grew up hearing that when God’s with you, you’re never alone.

What good is “I will never leave you nor forsake you” if, even with God there, you’re still alone?

Augh, no! I’m sorry I asked!

[nervous breathing, cough]

Okay. So.

Since it’s not good for Adam to be alone (and he’s alone even with God), Yhvh God decides to make a suitable helper for him. Which Yhvh God does by forming animal golems out of dirt and bringing them to life.

….

I… look, I know I’m dumb. But I swear this contradicts what we were told in chapter one.

“Let birds fly above the earth across the face of the sky” on day five, before Adam was ever made, and “let the earth bring forth living creatures” on day six, also before Adam was made, is not compatible with “out of the ground Yhvh God formed every beast of the field and every bird of the air and brought them to Adam to see what he would call them.”

Don’t you try to tell me Yhvh God had formed every beast of the field! “וַיִּצֶר֩” is a consecutive imperfect verb just like “וַיָּבֵא֙” (“and brought them”)! They’re the same tense!

Ow! Fine, I’ll move on.

So, being as God isn’t good enough company, he figures maybe a horse will work as a companion for Adam. Or a cow, maybe. How about a dung beetle? Pigeon?

Yhvh God seems kind of stupid, honestly.

Aaah! Fire! No! Bad! Put down the—where did you even get those pitchforks?!?

Right, so, Yhvh God makes all the animals and birds out of dirt and brings them to Adam, in the garden of Pleasure, and whatever Adam calls each one is the name it gets. This is probably a real long process, on account of how many different animals there are, but even after Adam’s named the very last glyptapanteles wasp, he and Yhvh God still haven’t turned up any lower animal suitable to be Adam’s companion and helper.

So Yhvh God goes ahead and makes a more appropriate lower animal.

Ow! Dangit! Look, I’m just saying! It’d be one thing if Adam and Eve were made at the same time, in the same way, like they maybe were in Genesis 1:27, but this is Genesis 2:22, and Eve is obviously not Adam’s equal here!

She’s a tiny part of Adam, a bit he can do without. Yhvh God puts him in a coma, pulls out a single rib. That’s Eve.

Like Adam says when he wakes up and sees her, she’s one of his own bones, a piece of his own body. She’s not her own being as such, she’s a little chunk of him that was removed so he’d have company.

Don’t look at me like that!

What other conclusion are readers expected to draw when one person is literally a single bone pulled from the other one? Especially when the bone-person was made specifically for the sake of the original human.

Anyway, the new writer says this is why a man leaves his parents and is joined to his wife such that the two become one flesh: because that’s what they were in the beginning, one body. The man goes looking for his missing rib and clings to it—the rib gets absorbed by the original body. Man is not complete without woman (woman is never complete, any more than a gear is complete with or without a clock: it’s the clock that’s complete with the gear, and incomplete without it).

Stop hitting me! What is wrong with you people? This interpretation was accepted just fine for hundreds of years, and you know it! This new idea that the Bible would never say women were created not on their own merits but rather for the sake of men—it’s completely ridiculous because look, Bible!

Don’t like the idea of women being lesser than men? Too bad! Leviticus 12:2 and 5! 1 Corinthians 11:9! Ephesians 5:22! Deal with it!

And now another side note: they were both completely unclothed, and it didn’t bother them psychologically. No shame, no embarrassment, none of that. No word on how they felt re: weather, plants, bugs, etc.

End of chapter.

Anyone else feel like these chapters end a bit awkwardly? Like they were randomly slapped in by people who weren’t actually reading any of it?

#Bible #Genesis 2 #nondenominational Christianity #upbringing #Isaiah reads

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maryellencarter · 4 years

Text

Queer asks copied from @corelliaxdreaming :

1. Is your family accepting? -- Hah. No. My bio-family is not accepting at allllll, so I went and got myself an internet family instead.

2. What is your sexuality? -- Weird. The strongest part of my identity is Aromantic. I seem to be pretty much allosexual, maybe bisexual; most of the people I find myself attracted to are men within a fairly specific category (physically fit to muscular, at least as competent as me, kind, and often a bit dorky; I also have a weakness for clever hands and sexy voices), but the women I'm attracted to cover a much broader range of appearances and personalities. I fall pretty much in the category of the one Tumblr post that said something like "Being bisexual means you're attracted to three specific fictional men and all women", even though the attraction to men... feels... more attraction-y? I'm still really struggling to figure that difference out.

3. What is your gender identity? -- Sort of genderfluid, sort of genderqueer, sort of maybe agnostically agender? I used to ID really strongly as a trans man, and then after a year or so of being accepted, I found myself turning female. I bounced back and forth for a lot of years but seem to have settled down at a point where it doesn't especially matter to me most of the time. Which is a lot more comfortable than hurtling around to different points on the gender spectrum without warning.

4. Favorite color? -- Blue. Royal blue, mostly. That really deep sky blue you get sometimes during the fall. A bunch of really bright colors.

5. When did you find out your sexuality? -- Oh, it's been a process. For a long time I identified as asexual. It took me years to figure out I was actually romance-repulsed, and more years to figure out I had any attraction to women. I'm still sort of confused by that part. Like I mostly just want to look at them being pretty, but I also definitely want to look at their boobs? Maybe touch some boobs? I'm honestly not sure.

6. What do you wish you could tell your past self? -- Oh lord. Sexuality and gender wise? I'm not sure young me could have been hurried along the process of self discovery. I'd really like to tell her she was being abused and gaslighted and that she needed to take her great-aunt's offer of a free ride and major in geology *before* she broke her health, and maybe also tell her she needed a CPAP machine, but she might just think I was a temptation of the Devil. Also I'm not sure if the CPAP machine was an option before Obamacare. Or the psych meds she needed, either.

7. Have you changed labels since realizing you were queer? -- Oh yeah, all over the place. Asexual, trans, genderqueer, biromantic (for about a week), aromantic allosexual bisexual maybe pansexual... some people apparently even count PCOS as an intersex condition, since I have a lot more beard and chest hair than is normal for perisex women, to the point that I always have to explain to a new doctor that I'm not in fact on testosterone, my body just does that. I've never quite felt right claiming the intersex label, but I've tried on a lot of others. I think my header may still say "queer on every conceivable axis".

8. How was your day? -- Um. I got stuck wandering Cracked.com for most of it. Then I drove up to check out my pulmonologist's office, which doesn't *say* they're closed for the pandemic, so I guess I'll go up again on Thursday and poke them about whether my appointment still exists. Then I went and wandered around a very large very dead mall on that side of town, hatched a bunch of pokeymans, then came home and ate some split pea soup.

9. Do you have any queer friends irl? -- I don't have *any* friends irl, and it's kicking my ass. I have like one or two coworkers I could hypothetically hang out with outside of work if we weren't so all-fired busy. But if we're talking "friends I have seen irl at some point", I'm pretty sure they're all queer. They might also be limited to @tigerkat24 and one other person who doesn't use Tumblr, I'm not sure.

10. What's your favorite hobby? -- Probably knitting. It's soft and squishy and brightly colored, and it can be as brainless or as complex as I could possibly want.

11. Who's the best queer icon in your opinion? -- I honestly don't have an opinion. I've always been too far outside the community to figure out whomst the options were.

12. Which pride flags do you like the most design / color wise? -- Pansexual. I'd probably have a lot more pride merch if I IDed as pan, but it just never feels like it fits quite right.

13. Do you wish you could change any pride flags? -- YES. The aro flag is the exact same colors as the agender flag, just in a different arrangement, and it pisses me off because you can't distinguish aro merch from agender merch unless it's specifically flag shaped / has the stripe arrangement. I liked the yellow/orange/green/black aro flag, I found it much more cheerful, but apparently it was too similar to something Rastafarian. But you can't find alloaro flag merch at *all*, even though it has the green and yellow, which I like.

14. Are you openly out? -- Can't really help it, since I legally changed my name to a distinctively masculine one back in the day, and I do not remotely pass as male. So anybody who both sees or hears me and knows my legal name, knows there's *something* queerish going on. (I go by a gender neutral name these days, but haven't yet been arsed to change it legally because it's an entire hassle and a half.)

15. Are you comfortable with yourself? -- Mneh. I'm not *un*comfortable with my gender and sexuality, particularly. Sometimes I wish I could pass as male, sometimes I wish I could have cute cleavage. Sometimes I tie myself in knots with my feelings about women.

16. Do you experience dysphoria? -- I used to, very strongly. It hasn't been very aggressive lately.

17. Bottom, top, or verse? -- *shrugs* I guess I'd be a switch or "verse" because I'm down for whatever.

18. Are you femme, butch, or neither? -- I swing wildly between wishing to present Extremely Butch in a lumberjack style, which is impractical in the Southwest, or wishing to present Extremely Femme but being unable to do so, and tying myself in knots over the inability. (I can't wear femmey shoes due to my stupid feet, I can't have pierced ears as they get infected and the one pair of nice lightweight handcrafted earrings I paid $50 for is gone with the rest of my shit, I'm too lorge to find any nice dresses or be able to like try on prom dresses and stuff, I have a tendency to break jewelry as I'm extremely rough on my possessions... etc.) In practice my gender presentation is Fat Slob. :P

19. Do you bind? -- Not technically, but I do wear cheap sports bras which tend to flatten rather than lift or shape.

20. Do you shave? -- Only by necessity. I shave my face when I remember, because my beard looks extremely douchey and rather like pubes. Occasionally I shave my cleavage if I'm trying to present femmey. I pretty much never shave anything else unless the hair is getting Smelly.

21. If you could date anyone you wanted, who would it be? -- Um. Good question. The thing is, I am fairly strongly romance-repulsed, but I do want and enjoy queerplatonic relationships, so I would draw a distinction here between "dating" someone and being "in a relationship" with them.

22. Are you in a relationship? -- Yes, in fact.

23. Describe your partner. -- @camshaft22 . Um. She's very much the Hobbie to my Wes. She's very snarky and dies a lot and I love her very much.

24. Have you ever dated anyone of the same gender? -- Given that we're both genderfluid, I would say I'm in a relationship with someone of the same gender, yes.

25. Dated anyone of another gender? -- I've never dated or been in a relationship with anyone else, so I guess the answer is no.

26. Tell me a random fact about yourself! -- I always use this one, but I once lived in four different states (mostly non-contiguous) within a calendar month.

27. Do you own any pride flags / merch? -- No. I used to have a whole-ass collection that I added to every Pride, and then I lost all my damn shit and haven't had the heart to start looking again. Well, I have a rainbow necklace Kat sent me which is pretty nice. Can't wear it till my damn sunburn heals, though. :P

28. Have you ever been to a pride parade? -- Yes, when I lived in Bisbee. They have quite an excellent Pride which draws people from as far off as Denver.

29. Any advice to someone who isn't out or is exploring themselves? -- Take your time. It's okay if things change. You don't have to solve yourself all at once. It's more important to find people who will accept whoever you turn out to be.

30. Pineapple on pizza? -- I've honestly never tried it. Part of me feels like I should, in order to develop an opinion, and part of me feels like I'm just as happy being outside of that particular debate.

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the-mad-starker · 5 years

Text

Starker RP: Diamonds and Roses

If you’ve seen this moodboard before, don’t worry, I’m just reposting cause I’m too lazy to make a new one.

BUT! @lovely-garnet and I have been teasing people with our prison AU rp... And we’ve finally starting posting it. Here’s chapter 1 and 2 together since we didn’t post chapter 1 previously. We’re hoping to update once a week.

AO3 Link: Chapter 1 (2359) | Chapter 2 (6101)

Summary: Prime Alpha Tony Stark is sent to prison. He can get out in a second, but instead, he decides to play nice and bide his time. Do things the legal way, for now anyway. While incarcerated, a sweet faced omega wants his help but at what cost?

Notes: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Prime alpha Tony, Omega Peter, intersex omegas, prison AU, future smut including anal sex, vaginal sex, blow jobs, etcetcetc...

💗 💗 💗

Chapter 1: The Boss

When the news broke out, the public reactions were a mess.

Those who only knew him only as a kind benefactor cried out against his imprisonment. Those that worked in the shadows alongside him were either pleased or worried about the status quo. After all, Stark Industries was a big name that had its fingers in many pots. With its head cut off, or in this case, imprisoned, there would be an inevitable chain of events if SI couldn't remain on top.

Tony Stark didn't worry about that. Even though the great mafia boss Tony had ended up in prison, things weren’t that much different after all. He did what he always did.

Walk in.

Take control.

By the end of Day One, he had most of the prisoners under his thumb, ruling over block B with everyone falling in line. It wasn't a complete takeover, of course, but the ones at the top of the food chain… Those people were his now.

It would've been easy to just buy out the compound. Tony could afford it but why get rid of all the excitement in his life? No, sometimes it was good to have fun.

Still, this whole prison thing was a bit of an inconvenience. He had to waste his time here when he could be out playing in the real world instead of having to eat sloppy food and sleep in a single creaking bed. But this was a necessity. There was a reason Tony was here and he'd sit tight and endure it.

The prison was a bit unusual, of course, as the prisoners here weren’t just common riff raff. It was huge and spacious with some amenities, but… It was still a prison.

There were beta guards everywhere, personnel trained specifically to go toe to toe with alphas. Supposedly, they could take an alpha down. 9/10, Tony heard they could subdue a raging alpha. It might take a couple of them to do it, but they did it nonetheless.

The prisoners had a rigid schedule. Specific times for sleep, showering and eating - filthy bathrooms and tiny cells. Violence was pretty common around here, not that Tony would know… If there was any violence going on around him, he was never the one on the receiving end.

Now, his prison sentence was set for as long as he would be able to sit still in this place - that was Pepper’s advice on the matter. But even though it had only been a week behind bars for Tony, the tension in the cell block was already quite high.

For whatever reason, he had to share the cell block with another prime alpha, and that had lead to many of the other weaker alphas to choose sides and start up fights. And he was the one that had to keep the peace, somehow.

A lazy Sunday afternoon was coming to an end when his right-hand man passed through his open cell door. It seemed as if he was hesitant to disturb Tony for the laying man had his eyes closed. So for a moment, Happy waited to see if the other would notice him. But the matter was important so he decided to clear his throat before speaking to announce himself.

“Boss,” he greeted with a low voice.

Tony didn't give any indication that he heard the man, except for his eyes barely opening. His entire posture was that of a man relaxing but anyone smart enough knew who he was. What he was.

So the correct analogy to make would be a predator lying in wait. Not resting. Waiting. There was a glimmer in his eye that proved it, a sharp, brilliant gaze that belied the relaxed posture of his body.

He knew Happy wouldn't disrupt him for anything that wasn't essential. And for Tony, essential meant business. He didn't get to the very top by letting others handle his business, oh no, his gang was built from the ground up by his hands and molded to his liking by his every decision.

“Hmm?” Tony prompted.

“Ms. Potts has some news for you,” Happy told him, making sure to keep his voice a low murmur.

Tony heard it clearly. With a single fluid motion, the alpha sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He got up, stretching relaxed but powerful muscles.

“Does she now?” Tony smiled, a sharp grin that normally put others on guard. “How do you feel about taking a walk with me, Hap?”

It had only been a week, but Happy was still wary about the prison rules and their reward/punishment system.

“I think it's almost time for lights out, sir,” Happy hedged. Smart beta, not outright defying Tony but saying enough that he let the prime alpha know his concerns.

“Take a walk with me,” Tony said simply.

“Okay, boss.” Happy agreed despite his concerns. He knew better than to refuse such a simple request.

Tony led the way out with Happy following behind him like a shadow. He could feel the eyes of his fellow prison mates on him before they darted away. No one would be caught dead staring him down, not if they wanted to keep their eyes.

It was close to lights out. On a Sunday like this, they preferred to keep the inmates indoors. But as Tony had mentioned, he was in the mood for a walk.

The beta guarding the door leading to the yard outside didn't meet his eyes. He turned to the side, peering at something in the distance, pretending that he wasn't allowing Tony Stark to just wander outside as he pleased.

The air here was refreshing but the towering walls were an eyesore.

Tony ignored them and turned to the man behind him.

“What do you have for me?”

The yard was empty as the light of day was quickly fading, but even if no inmates were nearby, Happy was being extra careful to ensure that no one was listening. Happy turned behind him to check if anyone was around and then looked over at Tony again.

The night breeze chilled him to the bone but he didn't flinch. He was a tough guy but most importantly, he was standing face to face with Tony Stark. Keeping his stern and controlled appearance was crucial.

For a moment, Happy seemed to be conflicted, an attempt to speak that was delayed for reasons unknown. Then he reached in his pocket to pull out the smallest looking scroll that ever existed. It wasn't at all acceptable to make Tony wait so Happy let out a sigh and spoke.

“Ms. Potts sends word that there is some progress being made...” His voice trailed off and then stopped as he glanced at his closed fist where he was palming the tiny piece of paper.

“...But I have something else that may be of interest to you. I was approached by a... kid... saying he needs to talk to you.” Happy crossed his arms in front of his chest as he recalled the weird encounter. “I told him to get lost but he was adamant.”

Happy shrugged in an indifferent manner but then his expression grew concerned, darker. “An omega.”

The information from Potts, Tony filed away for later. Happy was right that the second part was more interesting to him. Entertaining was maybe a better word.

Tony watched the expressions play out on his second's face as he talked about the omega. Happy was a beta so these things didn't really make much sense to him.

“An omega, hmm?” Tony watched Happy with hooded eyes. He folded his arms loosely, tilting his head at the beta.

“Who told you that you can have an opinion regarding who sees me and who doesn't?” Tony's pose was relaxed but his voice was icy with disapproval.

He looked away from the man, not bothering to wait for a reply. A lot of people came to see Tony when he got admitted to prison. Alphas, betas, omegas. Tony was proven to be the best of them, the strongest, the prime. Everyone gravitated to him for one reason or another, but whether or not he had a use for them, that was a different matter.

Happy making those decisions on his own without informing Tony first was a rookie mistake. So Tony made sure his displeasure was known.

“Hap, buddy,” Tony said casually, “we've known each other how long? Years. No one ever needs to talk to me. If there was ever a need, I'd get to them first. Tell me more about the omega.”

To try to make excuses now for his decision to dismiss the boy would only make his situation worse, so Happy stood in silence as Tony spoke. In truth, he didn't believe that there was a reason for his boss to waste his time with that... mousy omega.

Of course, he didn't really understand what it all meant. He only knew in theory how things worked for alphas and omegas. What he knew first hand, though, was that Tony's displeasure could result in very unfortunate outcomes, so he noted to never repeat such a mistake again.

Feeling intimidated but refraining from showing it, Happy nodded with a stern and collected expression. His opinion was that the omega was complete nonsense but decided not to share it. Tony didn't seem like he would appreciate it very much so he stuck with the facts.

“He gave me this,” Happy said, opening his palm to reveal the paper he was holding on to. “The letters are tiny but it writes the place and time that he wants to meet with you. Now, before you say it, I know this is...” He waved his hand and shook his head as to indicate how unacceptable this all was.

“But I looked him up and found out why he doesn't want to meet you out in the open. Thing is, he is under Thanos.” Now the beta paused.

His opinion was - again - to not bother with this but he kept it to himself. He glanced towards the back to make sure that no one was listening to their conversation and then his eyes returned to Tony, concerned and heavy.

“I don't know what he has to offer, yet, but I can get him to talk,” Happy promised.

“Under Thanos,” Tony hissed, a tiny bit amused.

He knew the guy. Big, beefy alpha that was always waxing on about the necessity of balance. They weren't at each other's throats, not yet anyway, but Tony wasn't entirely fond of the man.

Then again, the fact that Tony was sharing space with another prime alpha when he didn't choose to was probably the cause of that. It didn't matter that there was plenty of room for multiple alphas, there was something about Thanos that Tony didn't particularly like.

He waved away Happy's suggestion and plucked the piece of paper out of his hand. His eyes scanned the words, noting the time and place before he tore it to shreds and let the wind carry the tiny bits away.

“If he didn't talk to you then,” Tony said, “he's not going to talk to you now.”

He patted his second on the shoulder. “You did your job, Hap. I can take it from here.”

Then he smiled, a curving of his lips that was just a bit dark.

“Besides, it doesn't seem like I'm leaving this place anytime soon,” Tony sighed. He knew he was getting out, the question was when. “I may as well pick up a hobby or something.”

An omega. He had his pick of people to choose from to keep him company. But an omega that was under Thanos might just cause problems.

Why would Tony bother with that? And yet, the boredom was already setting in. He had sway over the prison, but even then, demanding a lab and whatever he needed to keep his mind entertained would either be too much or take too long.

He could use a bit of entertainment.

“I'll handle the omega,” Tony told Happy, “In the meantime, you can handle Thanos. Not directly, of course, but you can distract him or something.”

He glanced at Happy with a smirk. “I can trust you to do that, can't I, Happy?”

Happy was right to believe that this would pique Tony's interest. After so many years of knowing the man, he understood that he was easily bored. An omega would be entertaining for him, at least for a while. That's why he had brought this information in the first place even though it was against his better judgment. This omega could cause undesired complications, though, and he wasn't even really worth it in Happy's eyes.

Such a small and young little thing, but he had fire burning in him to make such a bold request. Happy would give him that, at least. Or the omega was just stupid, that could always be the case.

Maybe Happy was wrong to worry that this situation could get out of hand. It was just one tiny omega that could be used to keep Tony occupied and not bored out of his mind while they do…

In truth, Happy wasn't sure what they were doing in the prison. He only knew that where his boss went, he followed.

It wasn't his place to think about it anyway, but despite knowing he should just shut up and obey, Happy said a hesitant, "Boss?"

Maybe the news of fresh entertainment had tempered Tony's mood since he gave a small, indulgent smile at the beta.

"Yes, Hap?"

"Why are we really here?" The beta asked, a hint of uncertainty in his tone.

That smile didn't fade even the slightest.

"Diamonds and roses," Tony Stark answered and that was all he said on the matter.

It didn't make sense to Happy but he had already dared as much as he could stomach for the evening. So, Happy nodded with obedience, “Boss.”

That was enough to show that he would do anything that Tony asked of him - or rather, commanded.

<hr>

Chapter 2: Deals in the Dark

<hr>

(AO3 Link)

The time of the meeting had drawn near.

That was why Peter was pacing around in his cell unable to calm his nerves. Clenching his jaw in an attempt to control his fear, he finally gathered the courage that was needed to go along with this plan. There was no other way and he knew it. This was his only chance.

He walked out of the cell and down the stairs, relieved that none of Thanos’ men were around. Weirdly enough, the guards didn't pay him any mind either.

It was late in the afternoon, and at this hour, the prisoners were free to use the common areas or rest in their cells. It was the only possible time to slip through the prison grounds unnoticed.

Light on his feet, he made it to the hallway that led far and away from the main living area and down to the boiler room. Peter had snatched away the keys to this place when he had first arrived a few months ago.

It hadn't come in handy up until now, but this was a perfect spot for a secret meeting. It was secluded so his scent wouldn't draw any unwanted attention and it had only one entrance. One entrance, one exit. Safe and dangerous at the same time.

It could also be the perfect place for a trap, but Peter dismissed that thought with a shake of his head. If Tony Stark was to harm him... He could only hope that he wouldn't do that. That the prime would listen to him, that he would help him.

Perhaps, he was naive but there was so much riding on this meeting. Not to mention the very fact that his heart pounded at the thought of meeting the prime…

It was time.

He walked inside the room and it felt like he was entering the wolf's den. Peter shivered as anticipation and dread grew in equal measure. He was risking everything to be here in this tight and dim lit place.

His lean and frail body was dressed in the standard prisoner’s uniform but around his neck, Peter had a makeshift, tight collar made out of bandages. It was so feeble that it could be ripped off by anyone, let alone an alpha that would want to mark him. Yet there it was, an attempt to shield oneself.

With his hands already covered in a thin layer of sweat, he walked to the back of the room next to the tubes and pipes that came out of the wall and hid in wait.

<hr>

Tony's footsteps made soft little clicks as he walked. The man could be quiet, of course, he could, but he didn't need to.

The guards didn't look at him, averting their eyes in respect. The prison uniforms were ghastly and ugly and even Tony couldn't get out of wearing them. But the way he walked, his strides confident, face forward, eyes unwavering, no one noticed the uniform.

He walked with a confidence that many tried to imitate. It wasn't exactly a strut, no, that was too arrogant and arrogance implied unworthiness. No, Tony was confident and that confidence played a big part in making others bow to him.

He caught the faint scent of omega as he grew nearer to the meeting point and here, he paused, inhaling and scenting the air to get more intel.

The omega was anxious, a distasteful note of bitterness that Tony could almost taste. It made his nose wrinkle but it did make him curious. Omegas were flighty things and briefly, Tony wondered if the omega would run after all.

It would displease him to have his time wasted, but as he continued walking to the destination, the omega's scent only strengthened. He was certainly there, a thought that pleased Tony's alpha side.

The boiler room, a particular choice. Tony wondered at the reasoning. Did the omega really trust Tony to let him go if things went wrong? What a peculiar thing to do.

And yet, as he stepped through, Tony felt a bit more entitled to be a gentleman. It wasn't every day that something caught his attention this much. And he hadn't even met the omega yet.

Time for that to change.

“An interesting place for a meeting,” Tony noted out loud.

His voice carried just enough to fill the room. He moved away from the entrance, leaving it free as a show of good faith.

Long before the prime spoke, Peter was already aware of his presence.

He had heard him come. Those confident steps were unmistakable but most importantly, he could smell him. And this wasn’t just any scent, it was a prime alpha’s and it flooded the room the moment he stepped inside.

To the sensitive senses of the omega, it was deafening, overpowering. Peter needed time to adjust because his breath had been immediately cut off, his ears ringing, and he hadn’t even seen the man whose commanding presence it belonged to.

Truth be told, he hadn’t expected the prime to show. Why would he? But now that he was here, Peter felt unbalanced, his resolve weakened.

“Come out, little jailbird,” Tony called out, “Let me see who has the balls to summon me, hmm?”

At once, Peter’s entire body urged him to obey, but the boy felt his knees tremble and stood frozen with a hand tight above his pounding heart.

After only a few moments of mustering up the courage needed, Peter revealed himself. Not that he was ready, but he would never be. He had his fingers curled in tight little fists as he tried to appear in control and failing all the same.

Nevertheless, he walked in small but steady steps out of his hiding spot to present himself to the man that had gone out of his way to meet him. The alpha had answered the request of a stray omega and as unexpected as that was, the boy had counted on it with all of his heart.

Peter wasn’t stupid, he understood that Tony had shown him grace by being here. That was what he told himself, at least. He was trying desperately to not give in to the intimidation and fear he felt.

His big brown eyes were fixated on the floor. He would never dare to plainly look at the prime alpha. That would be too bold, too disrespectful. But even with his eyes averted, his mouth was tight with determination.

“This was the only place I could think of,” Peter replied, his voice steady for the time being. He dropped his gaze further down and to the side. “Thank you, alpha, for meeting me.”

There was a slight tremble in his muscles, a shiver as if the boy was cold.

Glancing at Tony’s general direction, he realized that the man had stepped away from the entrance. That made the tightness in his chest ease a little, his body a bit more relaxed. And that had to be enough.

After days of watching from afar, finally, the prime's eyes were on him. His breath caught, heart stuttering as the prime alpha eyed him up and down.

Tony wasn't sure what he expected when the omega came out of his hiding place. Happy had no information to give him besides saying the omega was a kid. At least that much was true, the omega certainly was young compared to Tony.

Observing the boy, Tony couldn't help but wonder how he had gotten into this place, how he even survived. He looked so small and vulnerable that Tony's alpha side wanted to react in one of two ways.

It wanted to stalk forward and destroy. Something so weak seemed almost too pitiful to exist in these walls. Why even bother?

But a larger side overtook it. At first glance, the omega didn't seem like much but his actions spoke of a deeper depth that Tony found intriguing. It was already a good sign that the omega was seeking to talk to him. Tony could only imagine a few reasons why an omega would seek an alpha out.

That was just the way of things.

Truthfully, Tony wasn't surprised.

It was nature, really. The weak turning to the strong and Tony was the strongest of them all. And yet, despite knowing this, Tony still felt something when he looked at this omega. To his surprise, he felt more inclined to lure the omega in, to find out more about him. To protect him.

Such dangerous thoughts for an alpha like Tony Stark. He'd have to monitor himself to make sure none of these unexpected feelings turned into a weakness that could be exploited.

The alpha leaned against the wall, arms folded as he looked at the boy. He tilted his head in acknowledgment, not that the omega would see it.

“Your name, kid,” Tony said firmly, “You know mine, obviously. It'd be rude to speak otherwise. And that would be such a pity since you've tried so hard to be respectful.”

Peter lifted his gaze, curious, as he peeked at the alpha in front of him. The prime asking for his name had caught him off guard. In prison, hardly anyone had used his name, especially alphas.

It was an unexpected… surprise. A good one since the alpha was almost trying to be civil.

“I’m Peter... Parker,” he answered with a hint of excitement that he tried to push down while smiling gently at his feet. The prime’s presence was intimidating, yes, but also... soothing.

“It's true, I know who you are,” Peter continued in a small voice with that smile lingering on his pink, hesitant lips.

He took another step towards the alpha and then stopped. The omega wouldn’t approach any further than this, even if the Stark’s demeanor and overall posture were relaxed.

“Everyone knows who you are... You're kind of a big deal,” he said demurely. He nervously scratched his cheek, not knowing what to do with his restless hands.

Tony smirked at the omega's words.

“Kinda a big deal, hmm?” Tony echoed, amused, “That's cute, Parker.”

At the alpha's casual response, Peter relaxed further. The gentle approach calmed his nerves. Maybe it would have been better for him to hold onto his fear- this was a prime alpha, after all. In this world, alphas like Stark were at the top of the food chain, the hunter, and the omega was at the very bottom. The prey.

But then, as if Peter remembered the reason he had requested to meet with him, the boy’s expression turned serious. Unsettled even.

“Alpha, sir, I–” he stuttered and got mad at himself for showing weakness in front of the alpha.

Clenching his jaw, Peter turned to the man and looked at him. The distress he was trying to hide was clear in his wide eyes. “I need to ask for your help if you would give it.”

Ah, Tony finally thought.

He worried for a moment that the boy would beat around the bush. Essentially, that this Peter Parker would waste his time. It was good that he got to the point.

The alpha watched and learned with keen eyes, taking in every quiet detail that gave him clues as to who he was dealing with.

Omega body. Omega gestures. Omega submissiveness. Everything about the kid was omega which was appealing to Tony's alpha nature.

A slight sniff to the air showed that Peter wasn't afraid of him though. That was good. Even though omegas were programmed to be the more submissive of the trio, Tony didn't want to bother with someone so weak.

He tilted his head in thought, listening with some interest.

Then the omega met his eyes and Tony's breath caught. The omega's eyes were so captivating, so determined. There was an edge of desperation there and it just made Tony so damn curious.

Lured in by those brown doe eyes, Tony pushed himself off the wall. The alpha prowled forward, eyes hooded as he came to a stop in front of his prey.

Peter didn’t waver, he stood his ground looking up at the alpha as he approached. Even if he felt his cheeks heating up, the redness spreading to the top of his ears, Peter stood still.

Tony took the omega's chin between his fingers, making sure Peter wouldn't look away.

“Spit it out then, kid,” Tony said softly, “A man like me isn't just going to agree without hearing your offer. So, what is it, hmm? What has you in such a bind that you came to me?”

Then his lips quirked up into a wicked smirk.

“And more importantly, what are you willing to offer me?”

The boy’s lashes fluttered because of the alpha's proximity. Tony didn't seem affected, his gaze steady and smile, unfaltering. Was Peter the only one being affected? He couldn't shy away, even if that was the case.

It was pointless to try and hide. The alpha could surely scent him and hear the pounding in Peter's chest. And he could see the small flames dancing in the brown of his eyes.

No matter the foolishness that was going on in his mind and heart since the first time he had gotten a glimpse of the prime... It was not the point of their meeting. And so, he pulled himself together, furrowing his eyebrows and tightening his fists.

“It’s Thanos,” Peter spoke and his muscles tensed, the mere mention of the name made him flinch. “He… promises one thing and does another. He makes himself out to be a… a savior but he lies. He's not what he seems... He's… a bad man.”

In his strained voice, the hatred was evident. The things he had seen… he couldn't forget or forgive but he also couldn't go off on a rant no matter how easy it was to do so. Peter knew he had to be quick, concise, and as persuasive as he could.

“I know I’m young and... But– Is it wrong to seek shelter away from him? He does as he pleases with omegas, with everyone that works for him, and–” Peter averted his eyes now, even if Tony was holding his chin up. He was embarrassed by his outburst but tried to push it all down.

“He means to humiliate me, to take my suppressants away... That’s inhumane.” He gritted his teeth, looking down and to the side.

“So, I’m begging you to take me under your wing.” He turned back to Tony with wide, hopeful eyes. The omega’s scent unleashed in waves since the need and vulnerability had shone through.

“And I’ll do anything you want,” Peter continued, voice steady and a fierce look in his eyes.

The scent made Tony's lip curl but besides that, there was no other reaction.

Every word, every sentence that came from the omega's mouth had conflicting emotions rioting inside the alpha. The information on Thanos caught his attention but it didn't matter. The gist of the matter was that this omega wanted to switch sides and while it could be done, it could be messy too. Would it be worth Tony's while?

The offer he dared to give the prime was what made the alpha's mind go quiet with dangerous intent.

“Now,” Tony purred, a low sound. In another world, it might've even been soothing, but here and now, it should've sent alarms ringing in anyone's mind. “That's a bold faced lie.”

The alpha smiled, but it was empty. A mean smile that held nothing back of what Tony was.

The hair at the back of Peter’s neck stood as the atmosphere in the room shifted. At once, uneasiness crept into the young one’s heart as an underlying fear made itself known. That Tony Stark was like any other alpha. That Tony Stark was another Thanos...

“You can't– Or well, I suppose, you shouldn't be offering things like that, omega,” Tony said casually.

He rubbed his thumb across the other's cheek, playing up all the dangerous signs that omega mommies told their sweet faced omega children about alphas like him. He grazed his thumb against the soft swell of Peter's lips, eyes dropping to where he touched him.

“Is this what you promised Thanos? Anything?” Tony continued, “Why are you surprised he wants everything then?”

He pushed his thumb inside, ignoring the heat that started to swell in his own body. As much as he was down for a fuck, there was something more important for the omega to learn.

Paralyzed by his words and actions, Peter looked up at him with huge eyes. His breaths became shallow, one by one, before stopping altogether once the alpha’s thumb was pressed between his trembling lips.

“You say something like that, you better deliver,” Tony said darkly. “And I know you can't, won't.”

He paused then removed his hands but continued to stare down at the boy.

“There are things people are willing to do and things they aren't so willing to do,” Tony scoffed. “When I said what are you offering me, I don't want some bullshit answer. You think you're willing to give me everything?”

Tony chuckled then jerked his head towards the wall. “Strip. Present for your alpha, omega.”

The omega was utterly shocked and frozen in place. Once the words made sense, he stepped forward, unwilling to let Tony’s accusations unanswered.

“I didn’t promise anything to him!” Peter cried out in protest. The insult was too cruel, too false to accept.

It couldn’t be true! Peter refused to accept it! That instead of finding a savior, he would be made to choose between whose hands he would suffer in.

But the injustice and the heartless words were too much to keep quiet even if it was against his instincts to defy the prime in front of him. It hurt him deep down because the omega had been enamored by the alpha in the few days that had passed. Looking at him through shy eyes from a safe distance.

His young innocent love had been allowed to bloom deep within. Peter knew that he shouldn't have, that it was a road that led nowhere, but he couldn't stop himself from dreaming.

This very dream flickered before his eyes, at this moment, as he stood before the man that threatened to crush Peter's heart in his palm.

“...So you think to humiliate me, as well?” He almost choked as tears burned at the corners of his eyes but there was no chance to back down now. If Thanos learned of this, he would strangle Peter to death with his bare hands.

“I wasn’t lying,” he sobbed, lowering his head and tugging his uniform shirt over it, making his hair a mess. He let it slip through his fingers and drop to the floor.

His chest was left covered in a white undershirt and the boy clenched the fabric, trying to silence the nerves that shook his body.

He had to prove himself. He had to. While looking down, he lowered his pants and stepped out of them.

But that was it. The boy couldn’t do anything more.

Paralyzed, he stood in his underwear and shirt, his hands close to his chest. His eyes were wet with tears but he didn't dare let them fall. He couldn't look the alpha in the eye, his face was burning with mortification. Instead, his eyes were pinned to the ground as he waited for the alpha’s judgement. This was far from the presenting that the alpha demanded of him, but Peter couldn’t find the strength to do it, not all the way.

Some alphas got off on the scent of fear. It smelled sickeningly sweet with just a hint of sourness underneath.

Tony had learned to tolerate it, but never cared for it much. He might even learn to detest it, especially with the small omega trembling in front of him. The scent of his fear was almost offensive compared to how it was before Tony revealed himself to be the monster he was.

Tony could even muster up a tiny bit of regret if he wanted to. Scaring the omega was his goal, but he hadn't expected– What a mess.

He sighed, a deep heavy sound before he ran a hand through his hair in frustration.

“Christ, kid,” Tony huffed, “The point was to be careful with what you're offering. You can't say you'll do anything then be surprised if they take as much as they can. Ever heard of give an inch, take a mile?”

He deliberated his choices. He could just walk away. The omega would probably count himself lucky. Maybe even avoid all alphas and primes in the future. Lesson learned and all that.

Alphas were scum.

He could wash his hands of this. Maybe even keep an eye out for the boy as recompense for the rude awakening Tony had given him. But did he want to walk away…?

Tony could make this right. Walking away wouldn't solve the boy's issue with Thanos. Wouldn't save him from becoming a prison bitch. Not with that attitude and no protector.

Another sigh, but truly, there had never been another choice for Tony.

He stepped forward, knowing his actions might be read wrong but doing it anyway. He enveloped the omega in his arms, scenting him in the only thorough way an alpha can claim another without actually getting down and dirty.

The boy in his arms had been through a rollercoaster of emotions already and it didn’t seem like there was going to be an end to it any time soon. In his confusion, Peter tried to back away when Tony stepped closer, still too agitated, too unnerved to think clearly.

“I'm not so heartless. I'm not so greedy or cruel,” Tony admitted reluctantly. “But others aren't that way. You can't trust anyone, kid. Better you learn that now.”

Peter flinched, barely able to listen to what the alpha was saying through the hammering of his heart.

In the next moment, however, the alpha’s scent bathed him in comfort, in warm and fuzzy feelings of protection that Peter had never known before. And that made his body relax, whether he wanted it or not.

To be granted a prime’s protection in such a gentle and caring way made Peter’s knees weak, his body calm and pliant. He was young, inexperienced, never marked or claimed in his life and now he had been completely overwhelmed in the arms of the powerful prime.

His instincts had risen within him, taking hold of his mind as Peter pressed his face against Tony’s strong chest. He lifted his head towards the man’s neck, taking in the scent that was even more intense there.

Soon, Peter was so much calmer even though his heart was beating fast but that was for entirely different reasons.

"What– what is this..." Peter murmured, dazed, scent drunk and barely fighting. "Why are you..."

The alpha held him and he even felt fingers stroke through his hair.

"I'm giving you what you want," Peter heard the alpha say, his voice so soothing that the omega felt like he was sinking into a soft cloud.

The scent tapped into Peter’s instincts, forcing his body in this more relaxed state. He felt how it soothed his mind, pushing aside his previous fear and almost leaving him in a drugged out state.

It felt good but… Alpha wasn't angry with him… His mind was in a haze and the clarity that he had before… When adrenaline made his heart pound and his mind skip a thousand thoughts a second of what he could do, had to do… It was gone, out of reach and he almost… almost didn't care to have it back.

Something about that was wrong.

Primes were dangerous, Peter always knew that but now, more than ever, he understood why.

Their scents were potent and whether or not Tony only meant to soothe him, not steal away his mind, it was affecting Peter too much.

It was casting his inhibitions and logical thinking to the side. He didn't want that, not when so much was unclear between them. He needed clarity to not be tricked by the alpha if that was his intention. Tony could not be trusted.

All this could still be a game, a farce, something to entertain this man for a few minutes… hours… days? The fear of being such a toy made his heart seize and where it was content and excited by being so close to the alpha, it now threatened to break. It was more than enough to clear his head.

Uncertainty made Peter's form stiffen and he pulled his nose away, seeking to escape the gravitational pull of the alpha.

"But… Who's to say that…" he uttered. He was fearful, yes, but also determined. "That… you're not just like him? Just another alpha." Peter asked and glanced at the alpha with furrowed eyebrows.

Tony's eyebrows rose in surprise.

He has given the kid what he wanted. His scent would be on the omega and as soon as he walked out, the other inmates would know. They wouldn't touch Peter for fear of angering Tony Stark.

Once Thanos learned of it, surely there'll be a clash between the two primes. When confined in such tight spaces, it was always meant to happen but the omega in his arms would've been a catalyst.

Protection. He was giving Peter what he wanted... Or was he? Under his wing…

Tony was intrigued.

"That could almost be an insult," Tony said with a devil may care smile. "Just another alpha… Are you always so impulsive, sweetheart?"

He let the boy go, stepping away and looking around the small, dark room to gather his thoughts. Even if Tony had his equipment and toys right in front of him, his attention would still be captured by the omega waiting for him.

"Who's to say I am any different," Tony considered, not at all offended. Then with a sly smile, he turned back to the omega, settling his hands on the boy's slight shoulders. "Except you. You're the one saying that by coming to me. Have I proven you wrong then? Am I just… another alpha?"

His own conviction had saved him but the alpha pulling away had certainly helped. Even then, the powerful scent was pulling him in but he resisted. It was getting easier to manage through it the longer they talked.

They… They were truly engaging each other now, something Peter didn't think would happen. He needed his wits together to be on par with the prime.

Peter shook his head and his curls bounced around with the movement. Insulting the prime had not been his intention, of course, and he became flustered. Even so, he still would not back down. The scent coming from the man was not agitated which helped Peter continue.

An omega's place was not to judge or measure alphas, let alone primes. Unless they were asking for trouble... Which Peter did just by requesting this meeting.

"Alpha… seems different," he admitted, keeping the rest of his heart's secrets to himself. "I…" he swallowed, "I have seen you…"

The boy had heard of Stark's ways within the prison. That he didn't mistreat those that were vulnerable and if there was ever a reason to fear an alpha… Stark's people feared him for the right reasons. But maybe he hadn't had enough time to show what he was capable of.

The boy’s admission made Tony wonder what exactly Peter had seen. What had Tony done to invite such curiosity and trust?

To his knowledge, he took over his side of the prison almost ruthlessly, all kinds of people bowing their heads to him.

The omega continued to speak though, so Tony put the thought aside for now.

"What if… Alpha promises…" Peter proposed shyly and bit his cheek. "No tricks or games…"

Tony raised a brow and stepped closer, their chests almost brushing. It pleased him when the omega continued to gaze up at him, expectantly and with such an unnerving gaze.

"Did you learn nothing from what I did?" Tony murmured, not unkindly but curiously. "How can you trust me? You're asking me to promise something with no way of holding me accountable."

His smile turned almost sad then.

"No tricks, no games?" Tony repeated, "Don't you know who you're talking to? Ah, you shouldn't be in this hellhole, kid."

Peter tilted his head, while still looking up at the man. Young innocence flickered in his eyes, so easy to be extinguished at the hands of an alpha. He stared into Tony’s dark gaze, wishing he could see what went on in his head, his thoughts and desires, his motives and wishes.

The boy was guilty of his crimes… That was how he had landed himself in this mess. But even with the fear that one of the primes could take him apart, Peter wouldn’t change what he had done. He kept that to himself, however, since he truly believed that Tony had no idea. Tony didn’t even know he existed before this meeting, no doubt.

He shrugged his shoulders, but his eyebrows twitched upwards, making an arch. He recognized now that Tony called his bluff and hadn't expected Peter to actually go through with the request. To Peter, it told him that the prime hadn't had bad intentions… Stark just had a shocking way of doing things.

But what could Peter use that Tony would abide by…?

“I will hold you to your word,” he said and lines of distress formed across his smooth little forehead.

“On a prime’s honor,” he continued with a stern expression. His scent was giving away, however, how intimidated he really was.

Would this boy ever stop surprising him? The alpha wondered.

"A prime's–" Tony ended up chuckling.

He couldn't even fathom– It was ridiculous. The omega was holding him to a promise based on such a fanciful thing. And yet, something stirred inside the prime and it… It didn't exactly ache, but it was bothersome.

Then that scent reached him… Sour… His nose twitched in agitation. Rather abruptly, the alpha decided that he didn't like that scent, not when it was previously so sweet and alluring. Before Tony had played his game, as the omega called it.

"Honor, huh?" Tony smiled indulgently, "That doesn't exist in this world, sweetheart. But…"

His chin dipped, just the slightest acknowledgment.

"If you want that promise, then you can have it," Tony relented with a careless shrug. "Is that enough? Or should I sweeten the deal… Add something nice to make up for what I did. Diamonds, perhaps?"

Peter smiled at first, a bit hopeful since the man gave him the promise. He shouldn't trust him fully, Tony had said it himself, but Peter did. He trusted that he would keep his word, even if it had been given to someone insignificant like him, a stray omega.

Then his eyebrows lifted at the alpha's curious proposal.

Diamonds…?

With a tilt of his head, Peter looked up at him, his expression softening in wonder. It was meant as a joke, he was certain. It couldn’t be that the prime would truly offer this to him. But even if he was, the omega had no use for precious stones. What good could they do… They were just for show, void of true meaning.

He smiled innocently.

"No… no need for diamonds," he said lightheartedly while shaking his head. The omega's defenses had fallen. He was exposed again, letting go of his reservations and fear. His smile turned tender and apologetic almost.

"A rose would be nice, though," Peter gave back. His inner thoughts and emotions were bare for the alpha to witness in the vastness of his brown eyes.

Ironically, the request would be more difficult to fulfill. Diamonds, Tony could have smuggled in. They were tiny and easily hidden. Peter would perhaps have a hard time keeping them but anyone who knew they were a gift from the prime wouldn't dare touch them.

But a rose… Another fleeting thing. Something that wouldn't survive here. And yet, Tony wanted to get it for him.

Maybe it was because it was a challenge to do so. Maybe it was for some other reason…

Roses and diamonds… He thought wistfully. It didn't mean anything to the omega, but it did for Tony.

He dismissed the thought and instead gave the omega a charming smile.

"A rose… It would suit you," Tony told him. "A rose and a promise then, along with my… protection. What then are you giving me in return, hmm?"

Peter would not repeat the same mistake as before. Offering anything to the alpha was just not persuasive enough since he had already backed down from such claims. Yet the omega was determined and would go very far to have Tony as his protector.

“I’m tough. I may not look it, but I am,” he said and gulped, his cheeks getting a bit rosy.

The words didn’t match with his softness, his vulnerability that was so obvious in his scent.

“I can work for you, obey, and be devoted. I can… do the dirty work.” He glanced to the side, unsure.

The omega knew that he didn’t seem like much, but this… he really meant it.

Tony hummed in response and gave the boy a look over.

Whoever heard of an omega doing dirty work? That'd be interesting, indeed. Tony couldn't even really think of what task he would give the omega, but then, having a potential piece is better than not having one at all.

He'd find a use for Peter eventually, he was sure of it. At least the boy learned quick.

"You want to be a grunt in my… organization?" Tony said thoughtfully but shook his head, "I don't need more grunts. I have those in spares, even here."

He gave another thoughtful hum and let his eyes linger on the omega's pretty features. He circled the waiting boy, considering… Considering…

No tricks or games was what he had just promised. He'll stick to it then.

The prime prowled forward, every step a confident stride. His chest pressed against Peter's back, firm and unyielding.

"I have a better idea and you can decide yourself," Tony purred as he curled an arm around the omega's neck. His lips brushed against Peter's ear, soft and intimate.

"How about you keep me company, hmm?" Tony suggested, "Be mine. My omega. I have business to take care of and a fickle heart can cause trouble. Keep all the other omegas from interfering and we have a deal."

It was such a minor thing but Tony's interest wasn't so easily won. It would be one less worry, one less quarrel that he could somehow get caught in.

Peter felt Tony’s chest rise and fall against his back, with the man’s steady breathing. He turned his head, for a moment, to look at him, before lowering it again. His chest raced, and how could it not, after this proposition.

Just business… a cold deal. Well… not for Peter, since being Tony’s omega was his heart’s deep desire. He wanted to be close to him, to accompany him… to talk to him… To stare up into those beautiful dark eyes…

But it was not easy to say yes, even if it was what Peter wanted. It was risky, but the man had promised… And Peter believed him.

“Then we have a deal.” Peter nodded, and his form stiffened.

To belong to the most powerful man in prison was a serious matter. And yet the omega didn’t care as much for this as he cared for the fact that he would belong to Tony Stark and be his. Peter’s young love surged even greater with the possibilities. The omega tried to not fool himself and still, that hopeless dream of true love didn’t seem as unattainable…

Or maybe…

Maybe he was giving himself away for false hopes and empty promises. A flower cut off the garden, to be scented and of use until… deflowered.

Even though Peter couldn't see it, Tony's smile grew once the deal was made. The omega also wasn't pulling away so Tony felt a bit... daring.

He turned his face, nudging his nose against the boy's ear. Peter's scent had turned sweet again, like honey on his tongue and the alpha breathed it in like it was a drug.

"Deal," Tony said, lips curved up in a devilish grin.

#starker #madstarker writes #lovelygarnet is amazing #madlove roleplay #nff #prime alpha Tony #omega peter #prison au #omegaverse

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1-800-hellraiser · 4 years

Text

Born This Way (Jane the Killer x Female! Lesbian!Reader)

Pages: 5.1

Words: 1,793

Genre: I have no Idea tbh/kinda fluffy?

Associated song: Born this way - Lady Gaga

!Tw! Swearing and alcohol

(P.s Happy Pride! :))

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

"No matter gay, straight, or bi, lesbian, transgendered life. I'm on the right track baby, I was born to survive."

You stand nervously at Jane's door, trying to work up the nerve to knock. 'Why is this so fucking difficult for me?' You ask yourself, you don't really know. You want to ask Jane to go to a pride parade with you and Clockwork that's somewhat close to the mansion. But, you can't bring yourself to ask her. You don't want to be a pussy and ask someone else to ask her for you, that's middle school level pussy-ness. You are not going to stoop down to that level. Ever.

Taking a deep breath, you knock on Jane's door. You immediately regret it as you hear a muffled 'I'll be there in a second' through her door. You are tempted to sprint back to your room. Before you could, Jane's door opens. Your breath hitches in your throat. "Oh hey Y/n." "H-hey Jane." You manage out, Jane looks at you funny. "Are you okay Y/n?" Hearing that, you finally come to your senses.

"Oh yeah, I'm fine. I just zoned out a bit. But, I came to ask you if you wanted to maybe go to a pride parade with me and Clockwork?" You squeak out, Jane's eyes widen a bit. "I would love that, Y/n. When are we going?" Jane asks, gently rubbing her left hand over her right. "Tomorrow at noon, its going to be on walnut street. We're gonna walk." You explain, a hint of relief in your tone.

"Ok, great!" Jane says, putting her hands together. You smile and nod. "I'm gonna go tell Clockwork that you're coming, I'll see you tomorrow." You say, giving Jane a gentle wave, she waves back and goes back into her room. You silently celebrate in front of her closed door. Then, you happily walk to Clockwork's room.

After navigating through a few hallways, you find a door with 'Clockwork' messily etched into the wood. You knock on Clockworks door excitedly, rocking back and forth on your heels. After a few seconds, a disheveled looking Clockwork emerges from her room. "What do you want." She slurs, your face explodes into a giant grin. "She said yes!" You say, bouncing on your feet. Clockwork smiles and wipes some drool off of her chin.

"That's great, now leave me alone, I'm trying to sleep." Clockwork insists, closing her door on you. That didn't phase you though, since she's just like that. You go back to your room to find something to do. You arrive back at your room and decide to pick out some clothes for pride tomorrow.

You decide to take the lesbian flag you have hanging above your bed with you. You search through your wardrobe and find a sleeveless flannel with the lesbian flag colors. You take that and find a pair of black jean shorts. You grab those and look for a pair of socks. You find knee high rainbow socks with white hearts you got last year from Spencer's. You also have some bracelets that are the lesbian flag colors. You set your outfit on top of your dresser and look around for something to do.

You glance at the clock on your wall. It reads 10:37 (22:37) pm. You decide to shower and hit the hay. You grab your pjs and walk to the bathroom. You grab some towels from the cabnet next to the sink. You place your pjs on the edge of the sink and strip off your old clothes. You toss your old clothes to the side, and turn on the shower. You step in and let the warm water cascade over you.

Stepping out of the shower, you wrap at towel around your figure. After you dry off, you brush through your h/c mess of hair. After that, you brush your teeth and pick up your clothes and put them in with the rest of your dirty clothes. You finally flop onto your bed and slowly slip out of consciousness.

Tomorrow arrives with a bang, literally. Clockwork got back at you for waking her up by sneaking into your room with a gun and firing it in your room. Thankfully, nothing was damaged. "YOU MOTHERFUCKER." You screech falling off your bed. Clockwork is doubled over crying. "You ass!" You yell, Clockwork only laughs harder.

You sigh loudly, "I'll deal with you later, I need to shower." You sigh and close the door on the dying Clockwork. You collect your pride apparel and trudge into the bathroom. You peel off your pjs and toss them aside. You test the water before getting in the shower. The water is perfect, so you step in.

Stepping out of your nice morning shower, you feel refreshed. You dry yourself off, brush your hair and teeth, then get dressed. You also used body paint and painted the lesbian flag on the bottom of your right eye and the top of your left eye. You look at yourself in the mirror. You smile, you look cute today, you hope Jane thinks the same.

You blush and shake your head, ridding that thought from your mind. You walk out of the bathroom with your pjs, butting them back to wear tonight. You put in your shoes and gather your things. You leave your room and notice that Clockwork left. You shrug and walk down to the living room. Clockwork is decked out in pride gear, but Jane isn't so much. She does, however, have a medium sized lesbian flag laying on her lap and lesbian flags painted on the cheeks of her mask.

"Wow Y/n, you look cute." Jane muses, resting her face in her hand, being careful of her makeup. "O-oh, thanks, Jane." You respond, gliding your fingertips over your flushed cheek. "Well, we better get going, I want to get there early before it get's to rowdy," Jane states. You nod, some pride serve alcohol for the adults, some don't serve alcohol. The pride closest to you, does. You follow Jane and Clockwork out the door and make your way through the forest.

You finally make it to pride. There are quite a few people there already. About, 50-100 people, with more probably on their way. There are many flags, of course. There are the most common ones, like the gay, lesbian, bisexual, pansexual, transgender, nonbinary, genderqueer, LGBTQ+ ally, and many more flags. But there are also some that are less common, such as intersex, omnisexual, aromantic, asexual, polysexual, and even lithromantic flags.

You're so happy to see so many people that are accepting of themselves and others. You feel this fuzziness inside you, and it's not just the beer. You feel at home, safe. You look around at the people, and vendors. The vendors are selling food and apparel for people that want to buy it. There are also a few drag queens and kings walking around, taking pictures with people. There is also music, the song playing right now is 'Born This Way' by Lady Gaga.

"Holy shit, is that Trixie Mattel?!" You hear Clockwork shout over the music. You turn and sure enough, it is the infamous Trixie Mattel. "It sure is." You add, Clockwork grabs your and Jane's wrists and proceeds to drag you to ho meet her. You giggle, for as long as you known Clockwork, you've known about her love for the queen. Clockwork watches Trixie's videos religiously.

Once you reach the queen, Clockworks freezes. You never seen her do this before, at all. Jane taps Trixie on the shoulder. "Excuse me, Ms. Mattel?" Trixie turns around and smiles at Jane. "Oh honey, no need to be so formal! Please, call me Trixie." The queen declares, Jame nods. "Okay, Trixie, my friend Natalie here wanted to get a picture with you, she's a huge fan." Jane explains, nudging Clockwork closer to Trixie.

Clockwork snaps out of her broken-ness and grins ear to ear. She pats around her pockets for her phone, a look of panic sets onto her facial features as she realizes she left her phone at home. You hand her your phone, "I'll send you the picture when we go back home," You affirm. Clockwork smiles and hugs you tightly, "Oh my god thank you Y/n, you're the best!" "You're welcome." You say, patting her back.

Clockwork goes up to Trixie, Trixie wraps her harm around Clockwork and Clockwork wraps her arm around Trixie's waist. Clockwork snaps the picture, says a quick 'thank you' and scuffles away. After she walks away, she bounces on her heels, gushing about how nice Trixie is and how cool she is. You giggle at Clockwork fangirling over her favorite queen.

You, Jane and Clockwork had fun at pride. You won a dance competition between you and a random person who bet on you losing. You gained twenty dollars from that experience. Jane got hit on by a lot of women and used you as an excuse to get away from it all, while Clockwork made out with a total of twelve single people. Eight female and four male. You bought some more pride apparel at some of the vendors and some fucking amazing food. Clockwork also got drunk and threw up in a trashcan, that's when you and Jane decided to call it a day.

You and Jane haul a drunken Clockwork up to her room. "Nooooo, I wanna go *hic* backkkkk." She pleads, Jane shakes her head. "Clockwork, you're very drunk, we can't go back, besides, it was getting dark anyways." You try to explain, but it didn't work. You open Clockwork's bedroom door and lay her on her bed. You set her phone in her hand and walk out of the room with Jane.

"I had a lot of fun today with you, Jane." You inform, rubbing the back of your neck. "I did too, we should do that again sometime." You nod and look down. "Y/n, look at me, I think you have something on your face." You look up at Jane and she leans forward and plants a sweet peck on your lips. "Goodnight Y/n, see you tomorrow," She says. Jane turns and calmly walks away from you. You brush your fingertips over your lips and break out into a goofy grin.

#writers on tumblr #writing #oneshots #requests are open #jane the killer #creepypasta #lesbian #lesbian pride #pride 2020 #happy pride 🌈#lgbt pride #x reader #jane the killer x reader

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the-queer-look · 4 years

Text

flannel scarf and glitter hairspray

Name:Adrian

Age: 25

Sexuality: Demisexual, Lesbian

Gender: Genderfluid

Occupation: Banking – postgrad english major

Location: Campsie

I like to present myself in an androgynous way. Most of my clothing is pretty masculine in the sense that I do prefer pants and a shirt for comfort reasons, but if it’s a hot day, I’ll wear a dress, and I don’t feel invalidated by that. I still enjoy slight touches of feminine influences in my life, and definitely don’t shy away from traditionally feminine colours or anything like that. I don’t use makeup, but mostly that’s because I don’t know how to use it, rather than not liking it. I’ll put on eyeliner and lipstick and be done. My girlfriend will suggest foundation or contouring, and I just say “nah I’m good” and don’t bother to learn. I have a glitter hairspray that I use to seal in my makeup on the few occasions I do try to use it, and it gives me a nice sparkle. Probably terrible for my skin though.

Growing up as a Muslim, I frequently get asked “When did you know?” in reference to being a lesbian, and when I came out to my friends I had a bit which I’d rehearsed to explain it. When I was around thirteen, this exchange student came to our school and I was very quickly drawn to her. She was very good at art, and a very cool person, which let me have the incredibly lesbian chat to myself of “I just want to be her best friend!” I remember writing specifically in my diary “I just want a best friend. Just friends, not gay.” we got really close, and I eventually came out to her, and told her that I liked her, and she was accepting of it, which was nice, and we both then had to manage our way around her realising that she was asexual, all while we were thirteen. Her being asexual wasn’t off-putting to me, I was just thirteen and didn’t know how to approach it. Hell, she didn’t know how to approach it, because she didn’t know the label for it.

After that, I began to examine the relationships I’d had with other girls all my life. When I was very young, I remember thinking to myself “I wish I was a boy” because all of the boys in my class make my friends cry, and I think that if I were a boy, I could just make them happy, if I were a boy I’d know how to be better to them. But looking back at it I just… I was so gay, and just trying to be as straight about it as possible. I thought it would be fine if I were a boy, because then I would be allowed to like the girls and they would be happy with me. I also remember sitting in a circle in school and playing a spin the bottle truth or dare game, and always getting offended if someone didnt answer the obligatory “if anyone in our class was a boy, who would you date” question with me. If I was second choice? Offended hahaha.

I feel like there wasn’t much of a change in the way I presented myself from before realising I was gay to after, because I already accidentally dressed like a stereotypical lesbian. I guess I picked up a few extra flannels? And before it was just “I like flannel” and then became “flannel makes me gay, and gay people will know that im gay, and I wear a headscarf, so I need to let other gays know that I too am gay, so I will wear a flannel over my headscarf, and that will be my signal to all the other gays that I too am in fact gay.” and it worked great.

Realising that I was genderfluid was a much more drawn out process. When I turned eighteen I started to enjoy it when people would mistake me for a boy, I was beginning to dress very androgynously, my voice is deeper than an average cis girl, y’know. After I took off my scarf and got na undercut, people would mistake me even more. I eventually went and made a facebook account using the name Adrian, a close anagram of my dead name because I wanted to have an online space where I could be me and apart from my family. But then people who I knew in real life who’d added my new profile started calling me Adrian to my face and at first I, or my girlfriend at the time would correct them, but soon I realised that I kinda liked it, and I’d like to just go by Adrian. And that started to lead me to the point where I was examining my gender, and learning about different terms for trans and intersex people, and I thought that maybe nonbinary would be cool. I thought for a long time that I might just be a trans boy, but I also really didn’t want to go through the transition process, I’ve never wanted to go on testosterone, or have top surgery, or be wholly one of the boys. I’ve always felt comfortable in the little inbetween between boys and girls, the concept of gender as a spectrum is a very positive one for me, and I like existing somewhere on that spectrum. Genderfluid feels most comfortable for me right now, I like being able to embrace both my masculine and feminine side at will, and it suits the changing nature of my personality, and I hate the idea of sticking in the box of binary gender.

I feel like my presentation changed after realising my genderfluidity. Not so much in embracing my masculinity, but instead in embracing my femininity. I had always felt like maybe I couldnt be feminine because of how llong id spent dressig in a traditionally masculine style, but after realising that I was genderfluid, I made an effort to express that side of myself, and to not be boxed in by conventions.

I feel like stereotypes can be a bit of fun I the lesbian community, like when I was just coming out and still dressing as a very muslim woman, flannels were honestly my godsend, I felt gay even though I didnt look gay, I could just have the flannel on with my scarf and identify myself to the community. But at the same time there are a lot of stereotypes that I don’t like – there’s a lot of biphobia, based on bisexuals wanting to have fun with girls, but not settle down with girls. And that sort of negative stereotype annoys me because it’s just gatekeeping at that point, by saying that you cant really be into girls if you’re also into guys. It also invalidates the experiences of everyone who had to practice compulsory heteronormativity when they were kids, because we were always told that boys being with girls was the default, and that was what we were supposed to go for. Some people’s lesbian inner voice isnt as loud as other peoples, they would have dated men, but that doesn’t make them any less gay than anyone else. I hate the idea of gold star lesbians, just because you havent slept with a man doesnt make you better than someone who doesnt. I’ve never slept with a man, but I dont feel more valid than anyone else, if anything I feel less valid because they at least have had the experience to know that they’re definitively gay. When they’re in a bit of fun, stereotypes can be fun, but when they turn that corner into something toxic, it becomes a real problem which we need to be much more vocal about criticising and removing from society.

I feel like there are more and more mainstream shows that are coming out and showing positive representations of the LGBT experience. They do lean on stereotypical looks for their characters, but I feel like thats just visual shorthand so they dont have to do a lot of work with the characters, and can just front load a lot of their personality through their outfits.

I know for a fact that the internet is and will continue to be an incredible resource for queer people, as it gives us a chance to create a safe space to explore our identities in private. I for one wouldnt have even known that lesbianism was a thing without the internet because of my sheltered upbringing.

full gallery on facebook

#genderfluid #lgbt #LGBTQIA+#gay #lesbian #demi #demisexual #photography #identity #interview #portrait #muslim #queer #pride

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classicalafros67 · 5 years

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On Why I Refuse to Talk to My Grandmother

This is not meant to be educational. This is not meant to slander my grandmother. This is only meant to be therapeutic – a way to organize my thoughts and release my emotions in a healthy way. I want to note, before I begin, that I am talking to my grandmother, but only out of necessity, for logistical and business reasons, until we come up with a recompense or I have to cut her out of my life altogether. I’m not even sure that I am going to share this, but I still wanted to write it, so maybe for a time, my anger, bitterness and disappointment can be placed elsewhere.

Recently, I wrote this piece, didn’t really share, but I didn’t finish it either on an example of how my grandmother has treated me and continues to treats me.

“I feel like I’m a pretty outspoken person when it comes to talking about gender expression, sexuality, gender, feminism and activism, EXCEPT when it comes to my family. Living all as a queer and gender non-conforming African-American, living with ones (loosely) religious, judgmental and controlling family members is anything but easy. In fact, it’s fucking hard as hell, and I’m pretty sure it’s the base of all of my mental illnesses. I’ve grown up to be silent and speak when spoken to. I believe that my guardian (grandmother) believes that she must rule with an iron fist and control and repair me at any cost, so I can be properly digestible for society. As I’ve grown older, I’ve begun to heavily resent her as these repairs and plays for control are disguised as concern and unconditional love. Recently, it has gotten pretty rough between us. I resent having to go home, so I go out as often as possible either spending the night with my friends or my boyfriend in the city.

One of her plans to repair me (and by repair, I mean “masc me up”) was foiled this week when I spent most of it in the city with my boyfriend in order to get away from her. The car that we are currently sharing got a majorly avoidable flat tire. I agreed to help pay for a new tire, but she wanted me to watch the tire get changed?? I could always google, but, hey, what do I know I guess? So, like always, she got upset that I had not come home, (mind you, I am 22 years old, recently graduated from college, and working multiple jobs to move out of there) and had started calling up a storm and MARKING all of the locations I was at. (She forced me to get this app on my phone where she can track me. Again, I am 22 years old.) I eventually went home because she was holding the car hostage and refusing to get it fixed until I came back, knowing that I needed it to get to work.

She tells me that we need to talk, but every time I attempt to talk to her about anything heavy, my sexuality, how I express myself, gender expression, ect., it turns into her talking at me and justifying, for herself, how she feels and why she acts a certain way. I have always been bad at having these conversations with family, but I am tired of the way my grandmother treats me. I haven’t been talking to her for the past couple of days because I refuse to go to business as normal and move on like nothing is going on, and I’ve been making a list of reasons why I’m upset with her which has become… extensive.

This list is disorganized and mostly just the tip of an iceberg talking point that we need to settle. It overall encompasses her disguising her homophobia, embarrassment and desire to control and socialize me (i.e. other toxic behaviors) as concern and unconditional love. Her forcing me to get an app that allows her to track and mark everywhere I go is her ploy to keep me under control, yet she disguises this as a way for her to let me know that she is home when I could careless, and she ignores that I am old enough to go where I damn please, don’t do drugs, don’t smoke, don’t party, but “there is too much going on in the world right now, I just need to know where you are.” Ask me… This will also lead me to my next point on how I express myself. I like, no, I fucking love makeup. My fashion sense, as I’ve mentioned before extends from dad to literal queen mom. If I want to wear a suit, I’ll wear a suit, if I want to wear a dad outfit, I’ll work that. If I want to wear sweats all day, girl yes. If I want to wear high heels and a floral top, I will WORK that. And if I want to wear makeup with any of those outfits, I WILL! Can you guess which one grandma absolutely hates? She’s horrible at addressing things too, so she gets passive aggressive. She always has a snide comment about what I wear or my makeup and “how bad it is for [my] face.” Even today, she looked at my Facebook and demanded me to take down my cover and profile picture because I’m wearing a full face of makeup and a floral shirt and my cover photo is the pride flag with the male, female, and intersex signs. It got to the point where I blocked her because I can’t mentally handle all the controlling.

I don’t know. I think I just want her to admit that she’s embarrassed of me if nothing else, recognize that I’m only living here circumstantially, that I am still an adult that she can’t/shouldn’t try to control, and that we should really learn to live with each other.”

We did eventually sit down in the kitchen one late night as I returned home and attempted to express how I felt. I wanted the conversation to be an eye opener for her that she couldn’t police how a grown person could express themselves be it online or in real life. Instead, it turned into an interrogation about, “who molested you?” “where did we go wrong?” and fake tolerance. I just ended up having to face my grandmother, someone who I had deeply respected and revered, someone who helped me through college and through life when I moved out of my father’s house, express her homophobia and internalized misogyny towards me in words disguised as concern and worry.

“Why are you wearing makeup?”

“Boys don’t wear makeup”

“I thought you were doing it to get back at your daddy”

“I’m getting a handle on the whole gay thing. I’m getting a handle on the fact that one day you’re gonna bring a man home. But, now, this makeup is too much! And the clothes you’re wearing. And you’re growing out your hair…”

These are some of the words that were shared with me on that night. It has been a couple of weeks and the conversation still rings in my head back and forth. There are so many petty rebuttals I both wish, but am glad that I didn’t, say. I understand that you care so much about the products I buy and put on my face. I understand that the rules to this binary society so strongly holds on to and polices how one performs their assigned sex at birth. I understand that with that in mind that anything outside that expectation is therefore repaired, most commonly through violence. I especially understand the fragility of masculinity and how anything that easily breaks that line is met with violence.

But I also wish that my grandmother knew that she was and is inciting the violence that she’s afraid will be inflicted on me. Violence isn’t just physical. She understands that as my grandmother, she has a power of influence over me, but instead of using this power and seemingly unconditional love as a force for good, a force to uplift the grandchild and encourage them to be themselves unapologetically while advocating for a better and more accepting world to others, she uses this power to police, criticize and repair my expression, my sexuality, my identity.

Imagine the mental, emotional and psychological damage that inflicts on someone. Every article of clothing you wear – judged. The shoes you wear – judged. Growing, styling or curling your hair – judged. How you talk – judged. What you talk about – judged. Every little thing about you – judged and threatened with getting kicked out of the residence you live in.

“Well, as long as you live under my roof, I don’t want you wearing makeup or girl’s clothes.”

All of this violence inflicted, while the attacker continues to pretend that there is nothing wrong with the relationship, and sweeps everything under a giant rug. This violence which affects so many other queer youths. To tell you how bad it is, I have contemplated being homeless, even at VERY low times suicide, just to be away from her. This is horrible considering that despite the violence, I will love my grandmother no matter what, I would like to mend our relationship, and I feel so guilty for feeling that way. But I cannot possibly see that happening until she magically addresses her own problems and stop projecting her societal desires onto me and my siblings.

So, for now, until I am in a financial position to move out and never come back, I refuse to talk to her unless absolutely necessary. I refuse to pretend to be her friend. I refuse to pretend I can tolerate her being around me. I refuse to pretend that I’m not purposefully avoiding her as much as I can. I refuse to let her involve herself into my life for her to gossip and disapprove. I refuse to let that toxicity invade my life again, and I shall seek help and refuge where I can in continuing therapy and being with the family and friends who accept me and love me for exactly as I am.

Postscript—

I think in terms of making this a discussion, because I could use advice on how else I can move forward. Am I missing something in this situation? I’ve talked about this several times in real life with friends and family, and I keep getting the same answers — “She’s just worried about” “She’s stuck in her ways” “She’s your grandmother, she’s supposed to act that way” But I call absolute bullshit. People can change at ANY age from ANY era, and this situation, I feel is WAY more nuanced than her being worried about me. I’d rather her not die a bigot, so I want to open up ways that I can have discourse with her and show her tools to learn more about the LGBTQIA community.

#queer #queer discourse #misogyny #gender #society #family #sexuality

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sophygurl · 6 years

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Thoughts for National Coming Out Day in this year of our lord twentyGAYteen:

1. When I was a teenager, I knew I was straight. In my 20′s, I knew I was bi. In my 30′s, I knew I was pan. I’m in my 40′s now and it’s gotten complex.

I’m non-mono romantically and sexually attracted, as in I have attraction to multiple genders.

But I’m also suspecting more and more that I fall on the ace spectrum along the lines of akoisexual. I experience attraction, I like the idea of dating and relationships, but I don’t like the feeling of being attracted to, and the reality of dating or sex or being in a relationship feels yucky to me. Some of this might be due to PTSD stuff and/or other medical reasons. But it also might just be who I am. It could be a combo of both. Whatever the case, I’m cool being single.

I’m also poly, and I know not everyone thinks polyamory belongs under the queer/lgbtetc. umbrella, but for me it most definitely fits as part of my overall orientation and identity. When I was dating, I did mono or poly relating equally, but FELT poly whichever I was doing. And as a singleton now, I still FEEL poly. It’s important to me. And my platonic life partners still feel like a poly community to me. We have each other in ways that significant others do but just minus the sex and romance.

I’m also genderqueer, and I’ve thought a lot about what that means to me individually. I don’t consider myself trans or non-binary. There’s a lot of complicated and personal reasons why that is the case for me, but it ends up sounding like gatekeeping because other people might share similarities to my situation but do consider themselves trans and/or enby, so we’ll just leave it as - it’s just how I personally do and don’t identify. I feel that I have a multiplicity of gender, including feminine and masculine both. But I am also very comfortable with my assigned bio sex as female. It’s my gender that’s queer - not my sex. For some people it’s the other way around, or both.

All of this is long-winded and complex, and so much easier summed up as queer, so mostly I just go with queer. Also because apparently queer is having to be re-reclaimed these days which pisses me off so I’m just gonna use the word queer as often as possible. Queer. Queer. Queer!

2. I’m out, open, proud, and loud about my identities. This is mostly because I’m just an obnoxious self-discloser in general and will tell anyone anything about myself at the slightest provocation.

BUT Also, I do think it is very important for the people who can and want to be out to do so. Someone has to answer questions and challenge norms and be an example to young folk and make all this shit visible and normalized. And since I have no qualms about being out, I am happy to do these things for the folks who can’t or just choose not to. Because that shit is valid as hell, too.

There are so many many reasons why someone might not feel safe to come out, or ready to come out, or not want to come out fully, or might just want to come out to some people and not others, or might want to come out about some aspects of their identities and not others, or might want to be fully out but not be bugged or questioned about it beyond stating what is true about themselves, etc. All of that is valid.

But I’m here and openly queer and ready to talk about it. So feel free to ask me about my queerness. (This goes for other shit in my life, too. For example, I will answer questions about my chronic illnesses or my mental illnesses or about living on disability benefits or about being an abuse survivor or about my favorite books or my cats or whatever the fuck.)

Leave the people who want their privacy alone. But I’m someone you can come at, as long as you’re polite and respectful about it.

3. My coming out stories are kinda weird. Because my life has been kinda weird. So like, my dad came out to me when I was around 10 and my parents were splitting up. It came out along with a whole bunch of other stuff about the dysfunctional aspects of my parent’s marriage and some wrong things my dad did which is maybe the one thing I won’t talk publicly about yet because it’s not really my story to tell but I do talk about it privately. But so anyway. Yea.

My parents split up, my dad came out as gay and left the ministry as a result, and he moved out of town. This was in the mid-80′s in a conservative area of the midwest, so it was not a thing that was talked about publicly. I did not tell any of my friends for years. One friend found out by snooping through my things and then told me. Another friend and I got talking because he had a gay older brother and we were safe people to talk to about this thing (it later turned out we were both queer too but I sure didn’t know back then and I think he was probably in early figuring it out stages himself at the time).

I didn’t tell anyone else until I got to college. Not even my bestest friend knew. So first things first - I had to come out about my dad being gay.

I didn’t personally have an issue with my dad’s gayness. I just knew other people were likely to, and I was being actively bullied by half the student body already and if this secret came out it would just have given them more fodder, so I kept it in. Turns out, some of my friends had figured it out anyway and were fine with it. And all of my friends were great about it once they were told.

But not only was my dad gay, but my parents were very liberal and we had family friends who were gay, and my parents talked openly with me about trans people and intersex people and many other things so it was not an issue for me. I used to sometimes wonder if I might be gay and then go, nope, I like boys too much! lol

So then I got to college. And met and befriended people who were bisexual or at least bi-curious and it got me thinking... and one day while out thinking I caught myself watching a woman’s butt wiggling as she walked in front of me, and I realized that I enjoyed watching such things a lot, and the lightbulb clicked on like ooohhhhhhh I’m bisexual!

My friends who were fine about my dad being gay were equally fine about my bisexuality. I mean, listen, some of them were conservative Christians who believed I was probably going to end up in hell some day - but they probably thought that about me before this realization for other reasons anyway - and they still loved and accepted me as a person, which is what mattered to me. I was a little worried to tell my dad because I knew not all gay people accepted bi people, but he was fine about it.

The funny part was my mom. When I went off to college, my mom started doing as much self-exploration as I was doing. So we kept coming to the same realizations around the same time. Bisexuality, polyamory, Unitarian Universalism, etc. It was like - I discovered this new thing about myself ... oh yea, me too! lol

I’ve never had a negative coming out experience with anyone I actually care about. I’ve had strangers or casual acquaintances on the internet react badly, but that shit doesn’t bother me.

I know I am incredibly lucky - both in how easy it’s been for me to figure out and accept my own identities, and in how easy it’s been for the people in my life to accept them and me. I remember I told my bestest friend about my bisexuality when I had just broken up with my first partner - a guy - and was heart broken and going to come live with her for a little bit until I got my life sorted back out a bit. I wanted her to know, in case I started to date a woman. But I also didn’t want her to worry about the whole living in the same space thing, so I assured her I wasn’t attracted to her in that way. She very comically asked me why, wasn’t she attractive enough, and acted offended, which was just the perfect reaction and I will love her forever for that.

Not only have I never had a bad coming out experience, but I know that my coming out has directly helped others to come to terms with their identities, and has helped to educate open minded but unaware allies about lots of things. So I am very fortunate.

And this is a huge part of why I can so easily and comfortably be out and proud. Not everyone gets to have the experiences that I’ve had. So if there is anything I can do to pay this shit forward and be there for other queer folk, I’m gonna always do it.

I’m here and I’m safe to come out to. I will hold your secret as confidential. I will help you open up about it if that’s your desire. I will support you as you question and figure shit out. I will help you find resources. I will believe you. I will accept you. I will help raise your voice. I will be your voice if you can’t speak up for yourself. I will fight off your bullies. I will field your ridiculous questions. I will listen. I will hear you. I will tell you that you are not alone.

#national coming out day #coming out day #coming out #queerness #queer

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mythicaldemigoddess-of-deltarune · 3 years

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I Decided To Look Up About The Tumblr-Username Myself.

even though I did ask for advice about it September 13th, 2021.

I decided to look it up on September 14th and found a Youtube video that tells

about what happens when you do change your Tumblr Username.

and it appears that it really does change the URL too, so when I do change my

username it will also change the URL too.

well I really don't want any misunderstandings,

so it is for the best for me to come up with a new username.

I knew that there was going to possibility that no one would see that post asking for help right a way, regarding the effects of changing a Tumblr Username.

and I really wanted to know if it would cause the URL to change

or stay the same.

because of the change, I will have to put down

“formerly: mythicalmarvelgirlnerd”

just so there will be no misunderstandings and those who have seen my drawings on both here and over at dev, don’t get the wrong idea or any form of bad assumptions.

a part of me wants to go with either a username that has to do with deltarune/undertale or like something that could have to do with my being Neo-Spiritual.....then again if I go with something that has to do with “Archangel of the Goddess.” there is a possibility people will just end up getting the wrong idea.....

I really do prefer to have her get custody of me, even if I still believe in God and Jesus.....but I think that when I end up talking about it too much without meaning to, people might get the wrong idea and I want to try to only talk about that kind of stuff every once in a while.

plus even if some info says that Seth’s line didn’t intermarry with daughters of Cain....that sure didn’t last very long...

I mean if it is true that Noah is a descendant of Seth,

and I did mention before that my Ancestor is Noah too (well that makes some humans of this world his descendants too.)

that would mean that Seth is my Ancestor too, well him and Cain...

maybe it could be seen as a Yin-Yang type thing, I don’t know...

I still can’t agree with Noah punishing his own grandson instead of his son for a certain act.

at least most dads now in days are much better when have balance with their feminine side and will be the ones to protect their daughters from the dangers of being hurt by those like King David’s son who hurt Tamar.

even if King David loved his son, he was not being a good parent by not punishing him for taking away Tamar’s Maidenhood against her will.

a “Maidenhood” is well just as it sounds,

even if it might mean something else for different reasons...

but it would make sense it would have to do with being a Virgin.

and if someone is called a Maiden, it means they are still a Virgin.

wait does that mean those Holy Maidens from the Fantasy Video games

would be Holy Virgins....?

I don’t think I ever thought about that until just now,

learning that “Maiden” also means “Virgin”

I think maybe later tonight, I should place my pendulum at the window.

even if it isn’t very bright right now because it is raining, I rather wait until later.

even though I did find out that I and my family, are mixed descendants of Seth and Cain, I am still me and I still have feelings.

and some times whatever I say can get misinterpreted and hurt my feelings.

though when my feelings get hurt enough I do cry....

like with happen with that toxic jerk a few years ago around 2019.

my family is Christian but I don’t think they will accept that I rather go by Neo-Spiritual...I think that a lot of people both religious and atheist,

might feel they can’t open up to their family about their new view and how they might start to question some stuff in their community.

and because they know that their family and neighbors

might not accept it, they have to hide it in the closet.

which once again, being in the closet isn’t just for your sexuality preference.

it can also have to do with your different religious belief, gender identity,

or maybe even species identity...

so being in the closet can be seen as expanded from just being about sexuality, to the other types too.

I know I can’t talk to my Mom about me being on a Gray-Ace Spectrum.

I think it would be correct to call it Gray-Ace Spectrum for me and others who are a bit different.

a Aceflux would be in the Gray Asexual Spectrum.

I also want to say that it is possible for a person to be both Aroflux

and still love watching or reading or playing video games with romance in it.

but might not feel like pursuing romance themself.

and when the Omnisexual or Omniromantic comes into play,

it could have different meanings.

like preferring guys who are more in touch with their feminine side,

nonbinary and excreta.

I hope the new season of Harley Quinn starts soon,

and I know some might disagree with what I am about to say...

but even if Doctor Psycho was 100% in the wrong for calling his ex-wife the “c” word....

he might of been a little right about Wonderwoman....being one....

I mean her and her mom, and warrior sisters could end up being the toxic feminist side....but I hope there is some improvement in the future.

and the toxic side does show in that one movie that had to do with Flash accidentally changing history when he was running.

Wonderwoman became a a dirty shisno.

even if how she became a shisno was under different reasons...

when fighting for equality, one must not let it get into the dark side

such as the Toxic-Feminist, I love the Moxie Movie and I’m glad everything worked out in the end.

but the Main Character almost lost her way into the dark side, a toxic side that made her attack (with her words) to the wrong guys who aren’t like the monster that would be revealed in the movie who did something very bad

that can be done by not just men/boys but also women/girls too.

but she does get back on the right path and ends up helping one of the girls from her school, who was hurt by a boy who did something really bad.

plus there can be some girls who were born Intersex, but could end up being the ambiguous type so it isn’t noticed.

I’m not sure if there would be a Feminist Group who would treat girls and women who find out they are intersex, in contempt.

but that might only be the toxic groups who feel that way, and those who are more open to those who were born Intersex might be still welcomed and loved for who they are on the inside, and Not just because of them being female/intersex.

there are different types of intersex, and some might not know they are right away until much later in their life.

with some Intersex, they could appear male on the outside but have the female reproductive organs on the inside, the same can be for those who appear female on the outside but have the male reproductive organs on the inside.

and no this would not mean they are Transmen or Transwomen.

it is just how they were born, and with some humans in the world

they can still appear female or male or even androgynous but they could still end up being one of the types of Intersex, as there isn’t just one or two types.

those who are the unnoticed intersex types, are one of the lucky ones.

because it is thanks to this, it protects them from having their choice taken away by both their parents and doctors when they get surgery without their consent or full understanding of whats going on.

that choice is theirs to make, not the parents or the rest of their family or even the doctors.

a family or the doctors should never take that choice away,

it isn’t right and it could end up harming the baby if they do the surgery too early in their life.

well I can think of another harm that can be for a baby, if they died in a past life because of some dirty shisno...

I’m gonna try to hope my pendulum is just on one of it’s pranks

when it came to asking about one of my past lives....

cause if it turns out to be true, I have a right to dislike dirty shisnos like that.

also I think the name Twilightner for the Players who play Deltarune, fits perfectly.

and the Darkners being Tulpa would make sense,

being creations of both Monsters and Humans who are known as Lightners.

and a Twilightner would between being a Darkner and Lightner, so it would make sense if the Players of Deltarune, would be called Twilightners.

I hope I can come up with the new username today, I will have to make sure to put down my former username on my new drawing posts too, so there will be no misunderstandings.

I still have to try to hope that the double check of what my blood type

will be more successful when we try again.

I also hope that Deltarune when all the chapters are fully complete,

that it will get it’s own game card for the Nintendo Switch like Undertale did.

it be nice if Temmie’s new games ended up on the Nintendo Switch too,

like in their own Nintendo Switch Game Case with the game card for the games on the inside.

I don’t suspect Cuphead Game getting a game card for the Nintendo Switch any time soon, even if the game is downloadable.

some will make the game case (like for the Xbox.)

but a game disc wont be inside, just some info and a art of the characters from the game.

but if the Cuphead Game already has a game card and disc for both Nintendo Switch and Xbox One, it wouldn’t hurt looking it up and keeping a eye out for them.

like waiting for a video game of Doki Doki Literature Club for the Nintendo Switch or Xbox One.

yeah the Doki Doki Literature Club Plus is on the Nintendo Switch, which I can’t wait to play it.

I’m listening to Good For You From Dear Evan Hansen.

I can think of some Ancestor Grandpas that that song would fit perfectly.

with their descendants singing it to them.

also I did do a fan art that had a intersex Imp, which I want to be like a Crossover type OC, like a Hazbin Hotel x Helluva Boss.

I did check to see if there were other Imps in the show

that had the same type of horns as them, but so far none.

so the idea of Intersex Imps having horns that can appear a bit different than the female and male horns, could hint they were born Intersex.

Millie’s sister is one of the transwomen characters in Helluva Boss.

I’m not sure how many they will be, but it be nice if Nonbinary was added.

some who are Nonbinary will go by them/they,

while some will still go by he/him or she/her,

and if a Nonbinary person ends up becoming Trans too,

they could have a bigender identity.

I guess I’m still in the Chrysalis stage,

like I could still go by Gyno-Agender

but what if I’m more of a Feminine-Nonbinary..?

I have seen the Gyno-Agender as type of bigender Identity...

and I wonder if I do figure out that I am more Feminine-Nonbinary,

would that still make me bigender....?

I think I will go watch Steven Universe Movie after I post this...

I will still stay signed in, as I do plan to check out some stuff on here.

plus maybe while watching the movie I can decide on a new username.

anyway like I said, knowing it was possible that some might not of seen that post right away and well I had decided to look up the info about the whole changing my tumblr username myself.

which did help, so if I decide on a new username today

will change it later maybe after I watch Steven Universe Movie

and check out some stuff on here too.

is it weird I can’t help but think if there was Goddess parody of

“Let Us Adore You”

that Athena would be the Yellow Diamond,

Selena would be Blue Diamond,

and Hera would be White Diamond...?

and given how White acted before, Hera would be perfect for the role.

as to who would be the Pink Diamond,

I would say one of the Earth Goddesses.

I can’t help but think that Steven’s parents

were kind of Toxic, yeah they were good but they were also bad at the same time.

and Steven did point this out when talking about his Mom after finding out her secret, as well as pointed out that his dad is just like her.

even if Greg is a good dad in some points, he was still bad at the points that he did neglect Steven....

I mean not neglect in the other sense, but more like in all the times he made money in his car wash and even got all that money from Sourcream’s Bio-Dad.

he never once took Steven to see a doctor or get him into school

or get him a home school tutor.

yeah Pearl, Garnet and Amethyst can help him with gem stuff...

but Steven is still half-human, and I can’t help but be disappointed in Greg

when he just says “your a gem” and not thinking that Steven might need both his halves cared for equally.

it was good that Doctor Maheswaran saw Steven when she did,

and it was good that she could see that Greg has been neglectful to Steven’s needs, like needing to see a doctor for one.

some family who aren’t able to go to a doctor or to a school,

have a good excuse and at times will end up getting help with that.

Greg might of had a bad relationship with his parents,

but it doesn’t mean he was 100% in the right.

maybe like only partly....I understand he would need to hide his music from them.

but it is possible in theory, that the reason why he wasn’t allowed to have music.

might have to do with one of his parents having sensitive hearing

and couldn’t take very loud music if Greg had a habit of playing his music really loud and not given the consideration that it might be hurting one of his parents.

if there was a AU where after Steven left Beach City to go live with his Father’s parents in secret but still travel at times....

then if Steven told his grandparents about his life and how his dad raised him but at same time didn’t....

I guess his Grandparents could end up becoming accepting that at least he had his Mother’s friends to raise him but be a bit disappointed they didn’t tend to the other needs he needed in his life, but could point out they still had good hearts.

but could still express disappointment in Greg,

who knows most of how Earth is like and could of helped their Grandson’s adoptive mother figures more.

there can be two sides to every story, and if there is a canon comic

where Greg goes to make up and reconnect with his parents after he fully realizes what they did to him, is just what he was doing to Steven but still being slightly different.

even Blue started to realize her mistake with handling Pink.

but even if Pink didn’t deserve most of her punishments,

but with how Pink acted most of the time, like with her destructive powers...

some of the punishments might of been what she deserved.

she was the first gem to become a Mother,

showing that it is possible for sexless/feminine identity polymorphic gem humanoids, to create a new life without taking life from organic life.

anyway I’m gonna go watch Steven Universe Movie now.

see ya later and stay safe everyone.

#helping myself #tumblr username change #talking about family #Mature warning

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ayma-nidiot · 3 years

Text

“Don’t Speak Their Names” - Shrimpshipping fanfic Chapter 14

This chapter on AO3 can be found here.

Chapter 14 - Interesting History

“Hey.”

Rex waved off the kid who tried to poke him and continued his nap. “Ugh, leave me alone…” He continued to snore so loudly that nearby students stared at him in disgust, hoping that he would wake up, if only to shut up. “Mom, cook me some more… takoyaki, will ya?”

The kid knew just what to say to wake Rex up. He leaned in close and whispered with a smirk, “I beat you, Rex Raptor. Give me your rarest card.”

“Waaaaah!” The dino duelist was now awake. “No, you can’t have my Serpent Night Dragon! ...Oh, Espa Roba. Fancy meeting you here.”

“Well, of course! I’m just one of many students who has this ancient history class.”

Rex looked around. Unlike his freshman comp class, this classroom was a great hall, with every seat taken. And with that many students there, it got loud enough to really awaken him. In comparison to the seating area, the stage was broad and empty, save for a few impatient T.A.s that played on their phones after they finished setting up the lesson. “There has to be at least 100 students here!”

“Try 300. Then again, class does start in five minutes.”

“Aww, man…” Rex stretched until he felt fully awake. “At least I got some rest for myself and the little one.”

“What do you mean?”

At this point, Rex was used to telling everyone, but that didn’t make him any less proud with each announcement. “I’m intersex. Oh, and I’m 22 weeks pregnant, by the way.” He showed off his baby bump.

“That’s a bit hard to believe. And you let Weevil top you?” Espa closed his eyes halfway and raised his eyebrows. “Interesting, because he doesn’t strike me as a top at all. He’s way cuter than you’ll ever be. Nope, I’m not buying it.”

“It’s not as hard to believe as your phony psychic powers.” Rex felt another kick. “See, even my kid thinks so. And you don’t have to lecture me on how cute he is.” Rex waggled his eyebrows. “Believe me, I know. ”

“Pssh, whatever.”

“By the way, how are things?”

Somehow, Espa knew what Rex was talking about - or so the faux psychic thought. “I-If it’s about Mako, then… uh… we…” he stuttered, unlike his sly manner of speech from before.

“That was actually more of a general ‘how are things.’ But I’m glad things are working out for you. You know, Weeves and I saw you two at the café, and let me tell you, you guys look cute together. So are you an item yet, or what?”

Espa’s legs fidgeted. “...We did it once.”

“Whaaaat? You did? When?” Rex curled up into a ball, much like a kindergartener excited for storytime might. "And where?"

“It was last night, in the back of his car - a white 2004 Toyota Camry, if I might add. In a deserted church parking lot, mind you. And even though it was the first time for both of us, he was rather good at it. It hardly even hurt.” Espa’s face turned as red as a cherry. “...I can’t believe I’m telling the worst duelist in all of Domino City this. Though I haven’t confessed to Mako yet.”

Rex turned serious for once, and gave Espa a consolation pat on the back. “Well, my man, you’ve already taken a great first step. You’re adorable as heck, and you're a smart, talented duelist. How could he not fall for you?”

“Th-Thanks, I suppose.”

“Speaking of, I saw Mako today at the club fair. He was looking for you, wanting to apologize for… something.”

“H-He was?” Espa sounded even more flustered. “Oh, great… I bet he didn’t enjoy it at all… Gods, I’m so bad.”

“No, no. It was more like… He was the shy one. He sounded like he was concerned for you. But it’s good to know you’re feeling okay. When Weeves and I did it for the first time, he told me his ass hurt like hell the next day. So consider yourself lucky.”

“Tee hee…” Espa snapped out of his sour mood. “If that’s the case, then I’m glad I’m not your boyfriend. You sound awful in bed. You didn't even use lube, did ya?”

"Th-That's none of your-" Rex didn't want to divulge that he and Weevil lost their virginity to each other in Pharaoh Atem's palace hospital - the most unromantic of settings, if he had to be honest. "Well, no. We didn't have any at the time. But I can assure you that things are better in that arena now." With his pregnancy going on, Rex hadn't thought about having sex with Weevil lately, let alone talked about it. He had never thought about doing it while pregnant, but he had to admit that he wanted to give it a try.

"Who knew we would talk like this?" Espa chuckled.

“Not me, that's for sure. Anyway, you should visit us at club sometime. We meet tomorrow.”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t. Not tomorrow, anyway. Babysitting duty for my brothers and all that. Maybe another time.” Espa turned to the door, and the entry of a scruffy-looking, short man silenced everyone. “Lookit, the professor just arrived. He’s one of the most popular professors at this university, so I think you’ll like this class.”

“Is he now? Oh!” Rex immediately recognized Dr. Saurus. “I know him! I’ve dueled him before!”

“Did you win?”

“O-Of course I did!”

“Hahaha, yeah right.”

“Shaddap! The professor’s about to start talking.”

“Hello, hello!” Dr. Saurus struck a pose.

“He’s just as goofy as my freshman comp professor,” Rex laughed.

“Yeah, about that,” Espa began. “You know that part when our high school counselors said that ‘your college professors are serious and won’t accept silly behaviour?’ Boloney. Especially at Domino City University.”

“Then I really think I’ll like it here.” Rex kicked back and took out his laptop to take notes. Not that he really expected to take any on the first day of school.

“Hello, class, and welcome to ancient history. I’m your professor, Dr. Spinos Saurus. My father is from Greece, but when he was young, he moved to Japan, where he met my mother. But just recently, they moved back to Greece.”

“I was wondering where he got that funny name,” Rex thought aloud. In a not-so-diverse city like Domino, he was pleasantly surprised to see more hafus other than himself, Ptera, and Weevil. Then again, with how many people this popular university had, it stood to reason.

“I am not only a professor at this esteemed university, I am also a leading paleontologist. Our first unit will cover the formation of the universe, and how dinosaurs came to be.”

“That is siiiiiick! Dinos for the win!” Rex got up without thinking and dabbed.

“My, my.” Spinos chuckled. “I’m glad someone’s passionate about my class. I just hope that he can study better than he duels.”

“Daaaang, you just got roasted by a professor on the first day.” Espa couldn’t stop laughing.

“Twice.” Rex huffed. His face quickly changed from a pout to a smile, however. After skimming the class syllabus, Spinos spoke about the Big Bang. Rex didn’t have much interest in history before, as his teachers in high school bored him to tears. But this new teacher made history so interesting, Rex wished he could take better notes. I need to learn how to type without looking at the keys.

The dinosaur duelist never thought he would, but he was genuinely upset when class ended. He was even more upset when he tried to catch up with Spinos as he left, but couldn’t. About fifty other students wanted to have a word with him, even when the professor insisted he had to travel to an archaeological site that day. But that didn’t stop him from noticing Rex in the crowd and saying, “You’re that kid I dueled. How’s it goin’?”

“Awesome! I really liked today’s lecture, by the way. You should teach the teachers at my old high school how to actually be fun.”

“Young man, if I could clone myself to be in multiple places at once, I would. Right after I revive a Brachiosaurus, of course.”

“Hey, my name isn’t ‘young man!’” Rex put his hands on his hips. “I’m Rex Raptor, the son of Ptera Raptor, and don’t you forget it!”

“Did you say ‘Ptera Raptor?’” Spinos’ eyes suddenly opened wide. “So that was her in the hospital…”

“What, do you know my mom?”

“You… could say that.” Spinos squirmed at the mention of Ptera’s name, but still showed kindness towards Rex. “Anyway, if you want to duel me or come to an archaeological site with me, you’re more than welcome to.”

“For real?!” Rex jumped excitedly, until a hard kick from his baby brought him down to Earth. “Ouch… I’d love to join you today, but Mom would have a fit if I did. I’ll try to convince her to let me go with you one day.”

“Y-Yeah… Have a good day, then.” So spoke Spinos as he left the scene.

“That was a little weird… Dr. Saurus seems really nice to me, but doesn’t want to talk about Mom.” Since Ptera wouldn’t come until Weevil’s last class ended, Rex decided to spend the next couple of hours absentmindedly perusing the library shelves. That absentminded perusing, however, soon turned into a checkout consisting of five large books about dinosaurs and a limited edition of Jurassic Park.

The bug duelist would find him sleeping in front of a school computer, with a YouTube video called “How to Stomp Your Foes with Dinosaur Cards” on the screen. “Hey, Sleeping Beauty, wake up. Or I’m going to carry you like a princess all the way to Ptera’s car.”

“No, you won’t. Just because I’m pregnant doesn’t mean I can’t walk. Or did you forget I was the top athlete at Domino High School?” Rex stumbled as he got up. “Oww!”

“Uh-huh.”

Rex didn’t want to admit it, but his ankles had been hurting ever since Spinos’ class ended, and his back hurt even more. “Shut up, bug boy! I wanna go home, and I’m sure you do too!”

After a walk that involved two trips to the loo, Rex and Weevil finally arrived at the car loop to an energetic Ptera. “So, how did the first day go, boys?”

“Pretty well,” answered Weevil. “Although my calculus teacher cut right to the chase. No introduction, no syllabus go-over, not even an icebreaker. Just straight into the integrals.”

“Uuuuugh! That word!” Rex curled up into a ball.

“So I take it your first day didn’t go as planned?”

“Oh, it went fine. Mostly because Weevil and I had freshman comp together." Rex turned to Weevil and whispered. "Turns out Espa Roba is in my ancient history class. And he did it with Mako. Don't ask me how, but our conversation went on such a tangent that he got me to think about... um, pregnant sex."

"Well, well." Weevil liked the sound of it. "Sure, as long as you don't stress yourself or the baby."

"Hehehe..." Rex let Weevil curl into him further. "You know I won't."

“Oh, yeah." Weevil turned his head to Adelaide. “Adelaide, I saw Mother in my freshman comp class. She’s one of my classmates. Apparently, she’s working to be a doctor!”

“C-Camellia… She’s here in Domino City? I’m glad…”

“Mrs. Raptor, I would love to invite her over sometime, if that’s okay with you.”

“Of course! I’d love to meet your mother.”

“Ooh, Mom!” Rex spoke up. “I have this super-awesome professor for ancient history! Not only that, but he loves dinosaurs too!”

“He… He does?” Ptera’s good mood faded in an instant.

“Yeah! His name is Dr. Spinos Saurus! He’s also a leading paleontologist and even invited me to go with him to archaeological sites! Please, Mom, can I go?”

As she pulled into the driveway of the mobile home, Ptera slammed on the brakes.

“Ow!” Rex rubbed his belly. “Did you forget that I’m with child?”

“Absolutely not!” Ptera scowled at her son when all four of them were out of the car. “You are to stay away from that pendejo, understood?”

“But Mom, he’s my professor. It’s kind of hard to stay away from him.”

Ptera gritted her teeth. “At the very least, you are not to hang out with him.”

“What’s gotten into you?” Rex looked perplexed.

“Rex… Did you notice what that man looked like?”

“He had a goatee and a really shaggy moustache. He also had wild brown hair and indigo eyes. ...Now that you mention it, he looks like me. Mom… Don’t tell me… Dr. Saurus is-”

“That vile, disgusting man is your father, who abandoned us almost 20 years ago.”

#yugioh #shrimpshipping #mpreg #fanfiction #ygo #lots of coastershipping banter in this chapter huehuehue

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