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yurtletheturtlehenderson · 5 years

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Dating Beverly Marsh Would Include...

Requested: [I'm sorry I can't remember who requested this or if this was an anon, I'm sorry!] Hey, could I request some headcanons about dating Beverly? (Also if you could add in the reader having homophobic parents 💕)

Warnings: obviously there will be homophobia, [at the end so people can skip if they need to read safely 😊] specifically from the readers parents so please feel free to skip if need be. And remember my blog is a safe space 💕 oh yeah theres also plenty of grammar/spelling errors i'm sure

A//n: This was WAY longer than I anticipated. I just kept coming up with more stuff and holy crap I love writing Bev x readers???? Please request more Bev Edit: this was in my drafts forever and again as much as i have been trying to get requests out in order, it's been pretty tough but at least this way stuff gets out sooner so here ya go.

Okay

First of all..

Y'all make the CUTEST COUPLE, OKAY?!

Like no joke

You know that cliche about girls stealing their boyfriends hoodies/clothes??

Well that goes for both of you and you both are always swapping clothes cause you both love each other's sense of style

Plus, ya know, it's got that great boyfriend girlfriend smell

It's cheesy and played out, but it's honestly so wholesome, and again, you guys each have an interest in each others senses of styles

If you're bigger than her, and her clothes don't necessarily fit you, pfffttt no big deal, she had a million blankets that smelled like her and then you two got together and now she can only find like,, two. But that doesn't mean she doesn't love stealing your clothes!! They're baggier on her but oH MY GOODNESS DOES SHE LOVE THAT. She just loves being able to completely immerse herself in your stuff. Especially when she isn't feeling safe in her own home and you aren't around, the best thing for her is to wrap herself in her your stuff and be comforted by you. Uggh, its hella sweet

But let's start from the beginning...

Both of you knew about each other from school

You definitely heard the many rumors about "Beaver-ly Marsh"

Not that you participated, but you were always overhearing rumors from gossiping girls and bragging boys in your class

Your school wasn't huge but it wasn't small either

But it was kill or be be killed, and rumors spread like the damn plague

It was inevitable

And it was just a matter of time before you overheard the several rumors of the "slut" who did it with every guy in school.

You'd roll you're eyes at the word and the ridiculous insinuations, knowing the massively overplayed game of telephone that ruled your school was not necessary the most credible source of information

And you were positive there were rumors about you, I mean, it really wasn't possible to go to that school without a rumor going around

Everyone had one

Anyways, you never paid much attention to them, but then you met her...

And oh no.

Immediately, it was:

You already never paid much mind to the rumors, but when you got to know each other??

Nuh uh.

No way

Not Beverly

No no no no, no

She was way too sweet, and shy, and beautiful, and awesome, and funny, annnd oh no the damn butterflies were back and shit she made you feel things

And you??

Bevery had no clue she was into girls until you came along...

You were her gay awakening and her being so used to all those nasty things people said about her and all those boys??

Even though it wasn't true, any of it, she still always expected that eventually one day she'd get her first boyfriend, to love and cuddle with and everything normal

Again, then you came along and her heart was all like

BOOM BOOM BEECH

You both danced around each other a lot. Seeing as you were two precious little gay beans that lived in a conservative town in the 80s, it wasn't exactly the most accepting environment and you guys didn't know if the other was into girls at all

On both sides it was "does she like me or is she just really laid back and friendly???"

It took way too long to figure out you were both into each other

If I'm being completely honest here, y'all were like the female reddie

Two girls who became best friends and always bickered like crazy to hide your feelings

The way you two found out you had feelings for one another was bumpy and awkward but silly and cute nonetheless

It came off in a passing comment that just slipped out

The two of you were having a sleepover like you did every Friday night you were available

and you two were laying on her bedroom floor talking about anything and everything staring at the ceiling

Her radio was playing in the background and the two of you were surrounded by various snacks you had been munching on all throughout the night and the conversation drifted to gossip about your peers at school

It went a little something like this:

Y: "Did you see so and so today??"

B: "Yes!!"

Y: *laughing* "Yeah, what the hell was that?"

B: I have no idea what goes on in her head...

B: but I guess I gotta give her some credit, she's always super confident and I'm like, 90% sure that's what makes her the most desirable girl in the 8th grade"

Y: "I guess that makes sense"

B: "I do wish I had her confidence. Maybe I'd have better luck romantically"

Y: "Oh please, like you need that. You're infinitely more attractive than her"

B: "What?"

Y: *panicked* "What?"

B: *slowly sits up with smug ass smirk on her lips* are you saying you find me... attractive?"

Y: ..."what?" *sweating*

B: *still smirking* "Wait,"

Y: "WhAT?"

B: *stILL smirking* "do you-?"

Y: *full on gay panic* "No!"

B: *smirking and blushing*

B: *lays back down* "well, I think you're pretty attractive yourself, if it's any consolation"

She's still so nervous though so it comes out in a whisper

She's 99 percent certain you just accidentally revealed your crush to her but her heart was p o u n d i n g anyway

What if it just came out wrong and that's why you panicked???

Had she just revealed her crush to you by mistake???

But no

You both were a blushing mess and it did not go unnoticed by either one of you

You're hands kinda accidently brushed and you both just had a heart attack on the spot

But the connection you two had that night

You both just... knew

You guys kinda just... happened

After that you both were aware you liked each other

But it was kind of unspoken

At first

It's not like you guys never talked about it, but you two definitely became more touchy and flirty

Holding hands when no one was looking

Shortly before you guys happened and before that night, she had introduced you to losers and they just totally accepted you as one of their own

You got along especially well with Richie (wonder why)

But Bev wasn't too happy about this particular fact...

Especially after you two got together

She wasn't necessarily jealous, especially cause she already had a sneaking suspicion about his feelings for another loser, but because he took up a lot of her time with you

But then, to her chagrin, Richie found out about you two

the eight of you were hanging out in the clubhouse, and Ben had to make some adjustments so him and the others left momentarily to help him get the resources

Except you, and Bev

You two volunteered to hold down the fort [literally]

aaaaaaand you two wanted to have a few minutes alone together too,

Nothing scandalous or anything like that, but you two didn't get be close around the losers

Then Richie returned way earlier than expected [turns out he was doing more harm than good and they sent him back]

He was just outside the entrance and he overheard you two

"I wish we could tell them,"

"I know. And it's not that I don't think they'll accept us, it's-" *sigh* "I'm just not ready... I'm sorry"

"Don't be. It's okay, we can tell them when we're both good and ready."

"Thank you, Y/n."

Richie just kinda stood there thinking about what he just heard

I mean, it made sense, you guys were really close, but then again, that's just how he thought all girls were

But everything else kinda made more sense the more he thought about it

And, it honestly reminded him of him and Eddie

More specifically, how he felt about his best friend

Now naturally this was a very emotional moment, but Richie Tozier being Richie Tozier wasn't about to waltz in there and give some sappy speech about he accepts you guys and he's here for you no matter what

No, no, no

He laid down on the forest floor, sticking his head in the clubhouse scaring the shit out of you two and said

"You guys should really be more quiet, Ben may be a suspiciously good overnight kid architect sensation but he has yet to soundproof this baby"

He then stuck his arm inside the clubhouse, patting the ceiling, shaking a couple spiders loose from his his hand in disgust

"Richie...!"

You two jumped apart and you about nearly shit your pants

"Relax, I'm not gonna tell anyone,"

You both were startled as hell and absolutely disgruntled but the two of you looked at each other, simultaneously breathing a sigh of relief

He got up and joined you two in the clubhouse, and began lounging in his usual spot in the hammock, arms behind his head

"So, this means you two are both into girls, huh?"

Once again, you looked at one another and back at him, nodding shyly

He plastered on the most mischievous smirk you had ever seen and nodded his head, his huge eyes squinting slightly from behind his glasses

"niceee"

This of course was followed by simultaneous eye rolls, Bev even threw her gum wrapper at him but you laughed

It was a relieved laugh

Here you were, exposed and unintentionally outed to Richie "Trashmouth" Tozier and sure enough his reaction was "nICE"

It was honestly a relief and kinda hilarious

You guys just kinda broke out into laughter

It was nice moment

***TRIGGER WARNING FOR [PARENTAL] HOMOPHOBIA BELOW***

And for a while, everything was great. That was, until your parents began to take note just how much time you were spending with Bev

They kept an eye on it at first

Then they started asking questions

You knew this day would come one way or another

Hell, you grew up with them after all, you knew what they thought about people like you and it broke your heart

It terrified you

And it's exactly what you heard every night when you tried to fall asleep, their voices speaking to you clear as day; how disgusted they were. They weren't really there of course and it wasn't until you became a loser that you found out what that voice was...

The point is, your deepest fear was being realized so you did what you could do

Lie

And it seemed to work. Briefly

Your mother had come in to check on you two for the fifth time - usually she checked on you two four times since their suspicions - and found you two snuggled up on top of your sleeping bags

Your mother screamed, scaring the crap out of you guys and you jumped apart

Your mother was thrown into hysterics and went to fetch your father, wailing like a damn baby

Needless to say that night was a long one for everyone

And as if things couldn't get any worse, just days later you found out that Beverly had been taken by It

Immediately, every doubt, every fear, every inkling of shame your parents and your community had drilled into you was forgotten and all that mattered was getting her back

You and your friends literally went through hell to get her back

Needless to say it was a terrifying ordeal but you all had each other's backs and everyone came out okay

When you left Neibolt, you and Beverly were hand in hand

You couldn't give a flying fck about it, you just fought a shape-shifting demon clown you could face your small minded parents

And more importantly you knew even if your parents didn't support you, you had other people who did that and that was enough

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

Hope you enjoyed, sorry it's so long and again this is out of order of who requested it so I'm sorry to those of you who had stuff in before this, but I've just been stuck for too long and I needed to get things moving again. Anyways, I hoped you guys like this and again, omg I love writing Beverly!!! I would not be offended if you guys asked for more Bev fics/hc when I open up requests again

#beverly marsh headcanon request #beverly marsh imagine #beverly marsh x reader #beverly marsh #headcanon #head canon #beverly marsh headcanon #beverly marsh head canon #bev head canon #beverly hc #beverly marsh hc #bev marsh hc #hc #hc request #homphobia #homophobia warning #it #it requests #it request

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purplesurveys · 4 years

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787

Stage one: Emotions. How often do you take actions you regret? Not super often, but it’ll come up once in a while.

Do you often feel guilty? As someone who was raised in a verbally abusive household and was always blamed, corrected, or shamed for not knowing any better, you bet your ass I feel guilty all the time. ‘Sorry’ is probably in my top 50 most used words haha. Do you have a short temper? A little bit, yeah. I got my mom’s impatience for most situations and I’m also a bit of a perfectionist, so if I’m in work mode and I see that something’s askew I’ll be fussy about it until it’s fixed.

When was the last time you lashed out at someone? This afternoon when I was feeling super stressed and was venting to Gabie, but I had the vibe that she wasn’t all ears. And why was that? Because I would assume anyone would feel shitty when they’re ranting to someone they trust and that person acts like they aren’t listening?

Does it always seem like the entire world is out to get you? I have weeks like this, but it’s not constant. Overall, I think the world is mostly decent with me. Have you ever had a serious mental break down? Yeup, tons. What led up to this? (sadness, depression, fury, confusion, etc) I’m not getting into them lmao? Do you believe it is just natural for humans to feel lonely? Of course. Everyone goes through their own battles that makes them feel this way, and sometimes the physical presence of other people or having a packed schedule wouldn’t be enough either. Do you ever feel lonely, even in the presence of those you know or love? Yeah, that’s what I was just trying to say in the last question. There’ve been a few times I wasn’t feeling my best, and I thought going to Skywalk was going to fix stuff but it didn’t. Do you believe that these are the "best years of your life"? High school and college were, but I'm expecting to stumble a bit in the next few years as I try to navigate adulthood and make the best of my 20s. I think it’s normal though as I know most people feel the same when they’re in their mid-20s, so I’ve come to terms with the fact that it might not be the best years for a while. Or do you follow the "the best is yet to come" philosophy? Yeah, but I also don’t just depend on the future to be great. I’m able to realize when there’s good things happening in the present too. Does it sometimes feel like your life is being wasted or not going anywhere? Occasionally. Nothing good comes out of those thoughts though, so I never entertain them. Tell me about the last time you were truly, truly happy. Sometime in January. I drove my girlfriend to her place and there was no one home, so we used that time to catch up and talk and watch Titanic haha. Being it was the beginning of the sem, I still didn’t have any class requirements or org deliverables so it was really just an evening to spend time with her. I love moments like those the most because it’s when I’m reminded how much I love having her around. Stage two: Relationships. How long was your longest relationship? My current one, which is running at four years. Though we’ve been linked together for much longer than that, so whenever I wanna impress people a little bit more I also sometimes say six years hahahaha How old were you when you had your first boyfriend or girlfriend? I was 16. Do you (or have you ever) had feelings for the SAME sex? Yes, that’s my situation right now. Do you consider yourself gay or bisexual? How strongly do you feel about it? For a while I thought I was bi because I liked Gab and had small crushes on some guys we were friends with in high school. It was also because everyone in school who also liked girls considered themselves bi, so me thinking I was bi was mostly an environment thing and I just thought I was one of them as well, because it was all I heard about. Through the years other orientations were given awareness, and eventually I found that demisexuality is most fitting for me. Have you ever had your heart broken? Many times in a lot of ways. Did you ever honestly believe you were going to marry your high school bf/gf? I mean, I still think that until now. Is it harder to get dumped or do the dumping? I’ve only been on one side of this so I wouldn’t know how to compare. Have you been able to stay good friends with any of your exes? Yes, but it took a while before we could mend our friendship. We couldn’t talk to each other for a couple of months but we patched things up after realizing our friendship was too important to throw away just because of a breakup. If so, is there any tension (sexual or not) between the two of you? There was, after a short while lol. Hence us getting back together anyway. Would you ever date someone that your friend liked or HAD dated? I wouldn’t do that. When was the last time you were kissed? First week of March. Are you a virgin? Do you believe virginity is "sacred"? No and no. How many times have you been in love? Was it always real? Once and yes. Stage three: Friendships. Would you say that you have a lot of friends? Yep. I’m really glad I’ve met a lot of progress when it comes to this. All I wanted in Grade 6 was one friend and now I have more friends than I ever imagined having, so it feels pretty awesome. Have you ever been considered to be a "loner"? Yeah, throughout elementary and some parts of high school. People would only talk to you if you shared the same interests, and back then I couldn’t find anyone who was like me. It made it hard to talk to anyone period because everyone already had their own set of friends. How often do you hang out with your friends? I obviously can’t now, but before the lockdown I would hang out with at least one friend a day. There’s always at least one person at our org lounge so it was easy to find someone to study with, get street food with, have lunch with, etc. Do you have a specific hang out or house that you go to? Yeah, the org lounge that we call Skywalk. It’s habit for anyone in the org to just drop by there when we have free time, or if we wanna hang out together. If my orgmates and I don’t feel like being at Skywalk, we go to a nearby bar called Tomato Kick. I have another friend group that includes Angela, and for that bunch we typically go to another local bar in the area for cocktails and shisha. Have you ever done anything illegal to help a friend? Other than giving them movie files I’ve pirated...no not really lol If not, would you be willing to? What would be your limit? Eh, I don’t like breaking the rules so I probably wouldn’t go all that far to begin with. Who is your best friend? VERY best. Choose. Angela. Have any of your friends ever stabbed you in the back? Yes, but they’re not my friends anymore. Did you forgive them? Are you still friends? No and no. Are your friends the only people that "get you"? I don’t think so. I’ve become pretty flexible through the years and can mostly adjust depending on who I’m with. Do you think your friends know you better than your own parents? They absolutely do. Have you ever lost a close friend because they died? I didn’t count Nacho as a close friend (cause I’m super particular about that title lol), but he was my friend all the same. Have you ever lost a friend because they gained a bf/gf and dropped you? No, this hasn’t happened. Are your friends your support system? =] Yes. Stage four: Family Life Are both your parents alive? They are. Were you raised by your biological parents? Technically I was raised by my grandma for most of my childhood haha, but yeah both my parents were present. Has your family ever been broken? I have an aunt (dad’s sister) who has had a couple unsuccessful relationships, but nothing in my immediate family. Do you think your parents respect your space? My dad does, which I hugely appreciate. My mom doesn’t know the basic rules of privacy and has never even learned how to knock. She just barges in, which puts me in a sour mood literally every single time she does it. Are you close with you siblings, if you have any? I’m a little close with my sister, like we crack jokes together and never fight and stuff, but not emotionally close. For instance I wasn’t able to physically comfort her when her cat died, but I made sure to flood her Messenger with messages to let her know I cared. I don’t have any relationship with my brother whatsoever. How often does your family fight or have big arguments? We don’t normally fight as a family. It’s mostly me and my mom who butt heads. Does your family hold very high religious beliefs? My mom does... we’re just forced to go along with it because she’s a bit of a brat and if we don’t do things her way, she’ll slam doors and bump against us on purpose, petty shit like that to let her know she isn’t happy. Are you the "black sheep" of your household? I used to be. I was a handful to deal with and there was just a lot of angst inside of me; and I attribute that to the abuse I got from my mom early on, which I’ve never gotten a resolution or closure to. Throughout my teen years she was able to twist the story and surface as the wonderful mother while I was the troubled teen that would never amount to anything, so it definitely looked like I was the black sheep. Thankfully I rose above it as I got older. Have you ever in anger told your parent(s) that you hated them? No. How often are you diciplined or punished or grounded? This has only happened a handful of times. Grounding isn’t common here and as mean as my mom was, she liked sticking to verbal abuse than punishment. The worst thing my parents did was take my gadgets and that only happened like twice. Do you feel like you are allowed to express yourself inside your own home? No. I have a whole-ass four-year relationship my parents have no clue about. Are your parents very controlling of the person "they want you to be"? Nope, they give me freedom which I give them credit for. They never told me what course they wanted me to take in college, what career they want for me, none of that stuff. Your family really does love each other, doesn't it? I guess. It could always be a little more, though. Are you planning to move away when you turn 18? I’m 22 now and I’m still here, so.

#survey #surveys

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anocchristmas · 5 years

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Merry Christmas to @katiesocs

Everyone is born with heterochromia — one eye is their own eye colour, while the other is the colour of their soulmate's. It's only when they meet their soulmate for the first time that their own eyes match properly.

There was a time before 1941 when Murphy had been very excited about maybe one day meeting his soulmate. One of his eyes was a nice ocean blue and the other a deep chocolate brown. As tacky as it may have sounded, he liked both colors. It felt wrong to prefer one color over the other as it was a mystery which one belonged to his soulmate and which was his. He spent an embarrassing amount of time picturing himself with both blue eyes or both brown eyes, and picturing a soulmate with the opposite pair of eyes. He had imagined how their first meeting would go; in a small corner diner in the neighborhood, Murphy tucked in a corner sketching as a tall handsome guy leaned over to compliment his work. They’d talk and wouldn’t notice their eyes had changed until one of them pointed it out, they’d exchange numbers and eventually get married. Atleast, that’s how he hoped it would happen. Unfortunately for him, things most likely wouldn’t happen that way.

Having been in Brooklyn in 1941 and being gay made the whole concept of soulmate matching more complicated. Granted, it would have been easier to find his soulmate than be able to live a happy life with them at that time. Having to spend the rest of his life with a person who is supposed to be his match made in heaven, but being forced to hide it because of the way society viewed people like him? It terrified him. What if his soulmate couldn’t handle a life like that? What if he couldn’t? These thoughts plagued his mind every night and they only became worse when kids in his class found their soulmates.

Of course maybe he wouldn’t find his soulmate at 17, maybe he’d be older with a stable job and living somewhere where his lifestyle wouldn’t be criticized or frowned upon. Or maybe his soulmate would be someone rational enough to keep his thoughts and worries at bay. They could live in a time or place where everything would be fine. He wished he didn’t have to be old, or dead to experience something like that. Except, after receiving the beating of his life in an alley, Murphy meets Briar and is turned partially immortal. Which, cool, but also, how was he supposed to live a fulfilling life with his soulmate now? It only brought a wave of new worries and he tried not to think about them too much. Besides, he’s super strong now.

As the years passed and the color of his eyes remained unchanged, Murphy’s hope of meeting his soulmate plummeted drastically after every decade. It’s not uncommon for someone to never meet their soulmate before dying, he’d just be part of the small percentage that doesn’t. Besides, it’s not like he’d be alone. Briar had also never met her soulmate and she didn’t seem as bothered by it as Murphy. He guessed it’s because she had lived longer and had made her peace with it. He couldn’t wait to get to that point so he wouldn’t have to think about it so much. He was tired.

Eventually they had settled in a small town of Beacon Hills. They had lived in so many towns since he had become part of the clan that he’d lost count and stopped caring about the names. It wouldn’t matter anyway. They’d have to relocate after a few years when people start to question why they still look so young. Murphy had grown accustomed to it. Moving around so much had left little room for friendships and attachments. But it was also the fact that he’d outlive mostly anyone he met that held him back from socializing much. Most of his interactions were limited to the clan and anyone Briar has business with, being that he was second in command and all that. And if he sometimes ventured out by himself to be around people in hopes of casually meeting his soulmate, then that was nobody’s business.

On one of their “off” days, while Briar is out without him, Murphy finds himself becoming ansty. Nothing is easing his need to want to do something, not even drawing. He’s gone through at least half his sketchbook, but can’t seem to complete a whole sketch without giving up halfway through. Eventually he slams his pencil down on his desk and pushes the sketchbook away, cursing loudly, as one does. The clan members, Lena, Elliot, and Tipper, ignore his outburst and continue to do whatever it is their doing from where they’re lounging about in the room.

“I'll be right back” He announces. Only Tipper acknowledges him as he heads out the door.

“Don’t die!” Tipper yells out, and somehow Murphy finds that reassuring.

He doesn’t know where he’s going, given that he doesn’t really know the town well. Or at all. But the sound of faint dance music leads him to a club on the outskirts of the downtown area. There are small groups of muscled men, some nearly naked, standing outside of the building. Murphy watches for a moment before deciding to head inside. He flashes the bouncer his most current fake ID card and brushes past the tall men by the door.

The music is way too loud, with too much bass, it nearly raptures his ears. He adjusts to the noise quickly enough and bee lines to an empty corner where he can be left alone but still be able to see almost everything. If human 1941 Murphy could see him now, openly gay, sitting in a gay club, living with no fear of who he is. It’s freeing, really.

Someone sends him a drink, a lean man with light brown hair and a big smile, he waves at Murphy from the bar as the server sets the drink on the table. Murphy raises his glass as a thank you and silently hopes the guy doesn’t come over. And he doesn’t, thankfully, leaving Murphy to solitude like he’d intended.

Going to clubs isn’t something he does often, but he does like to check out the scene every couple years just to see how things are. It’s good to see how much better things have gotten since the 40s, and he’s weirdly glad that he’s been able to see firsthand how progressive people have become. Not that things are 100%, but they’re better.

He doesn’t stay long and he doesn’t finish the drink the man bought him, not that he can get drunk anyway.

Walking briskly through empty allies probably isn’t the best idea Murphy has had, given that the town is packed with hunters and other supernatural beings, but he makes it back to the forest in a breeze. It’s quiet for a moment, but the sounds of running and yelling and growling quickly reach his ears and he finds himself heading toward the noise. Another great idea on his end, really.

The scene is hectic. There’s a young woman hiding behind a tree as two figures roll around on the ground fighting. It’s hard to see much from where he’s standing, but Murphy can see one of them is losing horribly. He sees flashes of yellow and white eyes, and then the yellow is launched about 100 feet in the air and into a tree.

“Oh shit.” He says dumbly as the figure with white eyes turns to face him. He looks over at the girl still hiding, clutching the tree as if it’ll be enough to keep whatever that is away. “You should probably run.”

And then he’s rumbling with the thing too.

It’s strong, Murphy notices right away. He stumbles a bit as he tries to hold his own against it and it doesn’t take long for him to get launched like a toy, but thankfully he didn’t get thrown at a tree. Oh right. He looks over to the other person on the ground, struggling to get up. He sees the yellow eyes, fangs, and pointy ears and figures that he’s a werewolf. They’re doomed if neither of them can take this thing down together.

“Might wanna hurry up there, Larry Talbot.” He feels an uncontrollable urge to help the person, to make sure they’re okay. It’s weird and it’s gone when they push themselves off the ground to go at the creature again. Brave fucker, then.

Murphy staggers to his feet, and throws himself into the fight again. The werewolf is down on the floor in a second, falling flat on his stomach. The second it takes Murphy to look down to make sure he’s not hurt is enough time for the wendigo to crouch down and sink its teeth into Murphy’s thigh. He yells out in pain and falls to his knees because what the fuck that’s a lot of teeth.

Murphy must black out or something because the next time he opens his eyes he’s lying on the forest floor, alone. He looks around for any sign of the yellow eyed werewolf or the beast, but there’s nothing, not even a sound. The wound on his leg is almost fully healed, but Murphy can still practically feel all the teeth in his flesh, it’s gross, really. Slowly, he rises to his feet, shakes off the dirt from his clothes, fixes his hair, and heads home. Briar isn’t home yet, thankfully, so he walks straight to his room and lays on the floor.

Some time later there’s a knock on his door, which means there’s a clan meeting, so he makes his way to the living room where everyone, including Briar, is waiting. He takes a seat on the arm of the couch next to Lena and Briar takes that as a cue to start.

“There’s a wendigo loose in the area” She says. Tipper is the first to raise a hand.

“Those are the ones that shapeshift right?”

“Technically, most supernatural beings can shapeshift” Elliot replies from the opposite end of the couch. Then as an afterthought adds, “So you’re not wrong.”

“Am I ever?”

Elliot makes a face.“Well…”

Tipper glares at Elliot then turns to Lena. “Have I ever been wrong? Don’t lie.”

Lena looks at the finger Tipper is pointing at her, then looks up. “Do you really want me to answer that?”

“Wow. Unbelievable.”

“Wendigos live off eating human flesh” Elliot supplies, because of course Elliot knows what it is.

“Ah. Cannibals.” Tipper nods, “Hey aren’t we somehow cannibals too?”

Elliot is pinching the bridge of their nose, mentally preparing to hear whatever it is Tipper is going to say.

“I mean. Right? We drink human blood, that’s like one step away from human flesh.” Everyone groans as Tipper seems to be having a crisis. “I’m not a cannibal, but who knows.”

“Guys.” Briar warns. They all shut their mouths and go back to paying attention to what she has to say. “It’s apparently already gotten three people, including one tonight. So can we please be serious about this.”

“Wait. Was it a girl?” Murphy asks. “The one that got killed?”

Maybe he should’ve tried a little more than telling the girl to run. If she got killed because of him…. he pushes the thought away and waits for Briar’s response instead.

“No, it was a guy. He was with a girl, but I managed to get her home safely.” Briar says, then looks at Murphy. “How did you-”

Briar stops abruptly and stares with an open mouth, and soon Murphy can feel the stares from the rest of the clan. He looks over at them, then at Briar, then back.

“What the fuck are you guys staring at?” He looks down at his clothes and notices that they’ve got dirt all over and there’s a twig stuck to his sweater. “Oh. Yeah I might’ve snuck out and fought the wendi-whatever”

Apparently that isn’t enough of an answer because they’re still staring at him as if he’d grown a second head. “What? Stop fuckin looking at me like that”

“Murph….” Briar begins, but can’t seem to get the words out. Now they’re all starting to freak him out.

“If no one tells me what the fuck is going on i’m going to-“

“Bro. Your eyes.” Tipper says. And what? what about them?

“Okay?” He’s a little panicked now. Are they bruised or something? The fuck.

“They’re both blue” Elliot adds.

Both blue. What the fuck? He nearly throws up, for some reason. How did he manage to meet his soulmate and miss it? Fuck.

“Fuck” He breathes out as he runs his fingers through his hair, going over all the events from tonight. Who could it have been? Somehow the wendigo situation is put on hold and they're all trying to figure out who the lucky guy might’ve been. They probe him for questions and he answers as best he can because honestly the only thing on his mind is What The Fuck?

They somehow narrow it down to five people. Murphy is still in shock an hour later, and stares at the wall they’ve made into their mystery board. Or whatever. It’s full of post-its of different colors and sizes, most with their names crossed out. The five left on the board are moved to the center, all in order of most likely to least likely. Tipper is the most excited about it, having gone through at least three red bulls.

Server Bar Guy Bouncer Wendigo Yellow Eye Guy

“We’re going to find this dude, alright? I swear to you.” Tipper holds Murphys face in their hands, Murphy swats them away and stands. He apparently hadn’t moved since he found out about his eyes.

“Alright alright get back” He straightens his jacket and moves closer to the wall. He squints at one of the names. “Seriously? The Wendigo?” The Wendigo is my soulmate?”

“It could be. Can’t rule anyone out”

“That’s…” Murphy shakes his head and sighs. “Alright. I guess. Whatever.”

They all go into a whole discussion about how they’re going to track down every single person on the list and Murphy is surprised that Briar is joining in on their hijinks. Their excitement is kind of contagious, he finds himself buzzing. or shaking. He can’t tell.

“Shouldn’t the cannibal be first on the list? since it’s, ya know, a priority?” Murphy asks.

“Yeah but what if we die before we can get halfway through the list?” Tippy says, as if duh. Murphy shakes his head.

“Right.” He says. “Right.”

Somehow they all make it back to the club where Murphy had spent his time earlier that night. Tippy practically runs into the Bouncer asking a million questions per second. The poor guy looks at the rest of them asking for help. Elliot tugs Tipper away and asks what they need to ask.

“Have you matched today?” The man shakes his head. “Matched 6 years ago. Sorry.”

After showing their IDs, they all head inside and wait for Murphy to guide them to whoever the Bar Guy is, and the server. Luckily, the server is still on the clock, Elliot and Tipper beeline to the guy as soon as Murphy points him out. They stop a couple feet away from him and then head back.

“Unmatched” They say at the same time.

They can’t find Bar Guy anywhere and Murphy is scared that maybe he left and they won’t be able to find out if they matched. They’re about to lose hope when Murphy bumps into someone and it turns out to be Bar Guy. One eye green, one eye light brown. It’s a no then.

“Hey! It’s you!” He exclaims excitedly, clearly drunk. “Oh sorry, I didn’t know you were matched.”

Murphy half laughs. “Yeah”

The club is a dead end and now they’re left with a Wendigo and Yellow Eye Guy. Fuck, what if it’s the Wendigo?

——

There’s a meeting with local werewolves and hunters the next day that Murphy is supposed to go to, being second in command and all. He really doesn’t want to go, but he showers and changes into his Fancy Hoodie and is on his way. They meet up at a veterinary clinic a couple minutes away, because that’s where meetings are held nowadays. They’re greeted by a bald man that Briar calls Deaton who leads them into a back room where three men are standing around an examination table.

The youngest one of the three is standing with his arms crossed, gaze stern. His eyes unmatched, one eye dark brown and the other a grey green. The older man next to him has matched eyes, both green. The other a cold blue pair. He doesn’t realize how much he’s been paying attention to people’s eyes again, it’s been awhile since he last cared.

He stands to Briars left, not saying a word for the rest of the meeting. The werewolves–– that he’s learned are named Derek and Peter–– had been out hunting it down along with the other older man, a hunter named Chris. They haven’t figured out exactly who the wendigo is, so that's their next step. If there’s one, there’s usually a whole group of them, sometimes whole families. Murphy only listens to about half of what they say, but he manages to absorb enough out of the conversation to relay information to the rest of the clan in case they have questions.

When the meeting is over, they all go their separate ways, Briar and Murphy going straight to the clan to catch them up on what they’ve learned. The three members are huddled around the “Soulmate Wall”, Tipper staring intently at the remaining two names. Murphy appreciates the devotion, and he’s glad they’re all putting in effort to help him, but he’s also a bit terrified of finding out who exactly his soulmate is. And he’s also afraid of not finding out. He never thought it would be like this once he matched.

Briar calls for a quick meeting, peeling the three from the wall. She’s about to start speaking when Tipper stands abruptly, sniffing around.

“I smell blood”

And they’re off. Human blood can mean another attack, or death. Briar takes the lead, a look of determination in her eyes. She’s not one to let others die when she’s around and neither are the rest of the members, so they’re moving as fast as they physically can. When they reach the source of the scent, they’re met with a lanky pale boy sitting on the floor tending to his palms as a boy with wavy hair crouches next to him. They both jump up when they realize they’re not alone.

“Oh there's more.” The pale boy says as he hides behind his friend, or soulmate. Murphy can see that they’re both matched from where he’s standing. “We’re gonna die.”

“Who are you?” The other boy asks. Murphy can’t stop staring. He feels warm inside.

“You two shouldn’t be out here.” Briar says instead of answering. If the wendigo were to catch the scent of the boys blood, then he’d be in a lot of trouble.

“I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.” The one closest to them answers, he glances over at Murphy and sends a shiver down his spine. What the fuck is up with him today?

“Yeah he’s-“ The pale one starts, then cringes a bit. “He’s capable of taking care of himself”

Briar pauses for a moment then shakes her head. She must recognize who they are.

“You must be Stiles and Scott.” She says.

The two boys exchange a confused glance. “How did you know that?”

“Derek,” She tells them. “He told me we’d be likely to run into you.”

They’re all interrupted by a loud screech coming from further into the woods. The one with an uneven jawline says a name, Murphy thinks it’s Allison, then runs off in the direction of the noise. His soulmate probably. Murphy doesn’t understand why he’s so disappointed, but he has no time to think about it because Briar is running to the commotion too.

“Yeah, you guys just— I'll wait here.” The pale boy says as they begin running off one by one. Tipper salutes the boy and laughs before leaving him there with a bloody hand, which probably isn’t a good idea with a wendigo on the loose. But they’re all gone so Murphy leaves too.

They find a half injured Wendigo trying to fight with the guy from earlier. There are a couple arrows sticking out from its back, all probably from the tall girl in a long black coat holding a very modern bow. She’s still shooting at it, trying to immobilize it enough for them to take it on, but it’s almost like the arrows are doing nothing to it.

“Scott!” She yells out just as the wendigo sends the guy, Scott, flying. He crashes right on top of Murphy who’d been standing a few feet behind him. Groaning, Murphy pushes him off and shakes off the leaves on his clothes.

“That thing just loves throwing people around.” He mumbles, readying for a fight. the clan members are already going up against it and it’s just barely enough. Soon they’re all being thrown around like rag dolls, it’s hard to see who’s being thrown where and who’s who. It’s all a blur really, until a shot is fired and the thing falls to the ground with a thud. Everyone’s eyes go to Chris, who’s still holding the gun up.

“Don’t worry, I used a tranquilizer.” He reassures Scott who looks disheveled and a bit scandalized. He must be anti murder or something. “It won’t keep him down long, let’s get him to Eichen.”

Briar nods, then stretches an arm out to help the arrow girl Murphy assumes is Allison. She helps her up off the ground and then both of them freeze.

“Oh!!!!” Tipper yells out. “Holy shit you’re matching.”

Everyone keeps their distance, letting the two have their moment. The clan is buzzing with excitement, including Murphy who lets himself forget that he has a soulmate out there somewhere that he might not ever meet. At Least Briar found hers. He notices that the pale guy, Stiles, is somehow now next to his friend, he was probably hiding out in the trees.

Murphy watches intently as Stiles approaches the wendigo carefully, peeling its eyes open. He frowns as he shuffles away back to Scott.

“He’s unmatched.” He hears him say. Were they hoping he was matched? Well now Murphy knows the wendigo isn’t his match either. That’s good, then. “We’ll find your Larry Talbot, buddy”

At that, Murphy’s head snaps over to the pair. “He called me Larry Talbot though,” Scott clarifies. And Murphy’s head is spinning. Could Scott be Yellow Eyed Guy? How does he ask? Should he get Tipper to ask? “I don't even know who that is.”

“He’s the, uh, original wolf man.” Murphy says. “From 1941.”

“Huh.” Stiles says, hands on his hips. Scott stares intently at Murphy, it kind of makes him squirm.

“You…” Scott starts to say, taking a small step forward. “I recognize your voice. It was you.”

Murphy absolutely freezes. So it is Scott. That explains the warm feeling inside when he was around him, the same feeling he feels right now. The two stare at each other for a second too long that Stiles starts looking between the two excitedly.

“Oh, my god!” He exclaims in the same tone as Tipper a few minutes earlier. “Dude!”

“Yellow Eyed Guy!!!!!” Tipper yells, grinning.

Everything turns into a blur of hugs and yelling and congratulations that Murphy doesn’t even realize when the wendigo was taken away and when a group of people turned into just Scott and him. It’s calm, finally, and he’s glad that his soulmate didn’t turn out to be a flesh eating supernatural creature. After nearly 100 years, of living a life of not knowing who he could end up with, of worrying that maybe he wouldn’t have one because of what he became, he’s finally found someone that’s brave, with a good moral compass, and cute. Someone he still has to get to know, that makes him excited to want to learn everything about them. The thought makes him happy.

“So, soulmates?” He says nervously. A kind smile spreads across Scott’s face, it makes Murphy swoon.

“Soulmates.”

#murphy #anocchristmas2019 #an oc christmas 19 #drabble #fandom: teen wolf

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sheepsandcattle · 5 years

Text

Chapter 5

When his parents split up, Curly wasn’t really at home for most of it - not as far as he can remember, at least. He doesn’t even remember crying over it at any point after that one time; the day they sat him down at the kitchen table to explain it all.

He remembers his dad crying though; remembers him smoking in the garden even though he’d never seen him do it before. Remembers spending some time with Brandon, probably to keep him away from the brutality of his old man packing up his things and leaving his home.

He can’t remember how long it was that he stayed with his best friend, but there were countless nights spent whispering under covers, giggling past bedtime and dozing off before they could even say ‘goodnight.’

He remembers forgetting about the things happening at home.

One night at Brandon’s house, Curly had found his mind drifting for the first and only time during his miniature-break down the road, to his parents and their home and the office that was his dad’s and “what will we do with it now? What will we put in there? Where will he go?”

“It’s quite fun, you know,” Brandon had said. “My dad’s house is better colours than mum’s.”

Curls had sighed. “My dad might get lonely.”

Brandon had sounded so sure - had frowned as he said, “no he won’t," like it shouldn’t have needed to be said at all.

“Why not?” He rubbed his eyes; far past their bedtime again, and the heat they’d trapped under the blanket was making him even sleepier.

Brandon shrugged. “Same reason I don’t get lonely,” he explained and placed a hand on Curly’s shoulder that made his friend seem more grown-up than he was a few seconds before.

Brandon smiled like he was too shy to say any more, but he didn’t need to. Curly wasn’t too shy (never was), leaning over to wrap him up in a hug.

***

A few months melt into one another. He’s not sure where a few of the weeks go. Maybe he was sleeping; his body and his brain becoming mutually exclusive for a while.

The ‘being more careful’ thing he promised to Dean isn’t going great due to unforeseen circumstances.

He doesn’t have his rubbish job anymore. Doesn’t like to think about it too much because it makes his head fog up and his jaw ache. That’s what happens when he gets stressed, he’s discovered. Smoking helps calm him.

His manager was kind enough to pay him a week’s notice when she fired him at the beginning of December, even after weeks of coming into work absolutely steaming after late nights, and leaving early when his highs just didn’t wear off right.

She’d said, “enjoy the holidays, Curly. You’ll be alright,” and hugged him goodbye.

He is alright as well. He’s making okay money and he’s brought his mum some bits for her kitchen for Christmas because she has a boyfriend now and he doesn’t love the orange and green theme she has right now.

Curly’s selling all sorts; drugs that even he hasn’t tried and some more that he’s tested for the sake of knowing what he’s talking about. Some he’s dabbled in more than he planned to.

Regardless, it’s all under control, all in the name of a good time and good money and, when Christmas does roll around, he spends it with his mother’s parents, almost perfectly sober with just a little pot in his system to take the edge off.

He applied for some jobs but he hasn’t heard off any of them. Yet. It’s been two weeks since he gave up.

His mum asks if he’s feeling okay when she catches him staring across the table at nothing in particular, but he’s always gotten overwhelmed at family dinners like this, so it’s easily excusable. His grandparents don’t seem to notice; they only used to see him two or three times a year when they’d visit England, so he’s not sure they even know what his natural state is.

He wonders if that’s just what happens when you don’t see a lot of someone, even if you trick yourself into thinking you’ve some kind of unwavering blood-bond with them. He wonders if his grandparents feel a little bit awkward around him just like he does with them, or if it’s different because they’re older and cherish him in a different way entirely.

He wonders if that’s what it will be like with Genie as she continues to grow up without him.

“Gosh, Elliot,” his grandma would say every time they’d meet again. “You’re so handsome” and, “you’re still growing!” He’ll never forget her face when he tried growing stubble just after high school and how she’d said, “oh stop! Stay young forever!”

Now he’s clean-shaven and his skin is as bad as it was when he was fourteen, and his grandmother doesn’t say that he’s handsome today, just that he looks older. He doesn’t feel very handsome; sleepy and achey. Looking older doesn’t feel as good as it used to. It feels like dry skin and shooting pains, cramping jaws and headaches.

He’s with his family though, and he’s happy nonetheless. They look happy too, so it’s all fine.

It’s all fine.

His mum’s buzzing because, thanks to Curls, she’s got a kettle again with a toaster to match and insisted that everyone had a brew after dinner, so his grandparents are in the lounge now, watching the telly with a cup of tea each. Meanwhile, in the kitchen, his mum gives him a haircut -shorter at the sides, neater on the top- whilst Curly chats to her new boyfriend about The Cure. It turns out Dom has great taste and is an all-round really nice guy.

He doesn’t feel so bad now for missing so many of his mum’s calls.

As he walks back into the lounge with his new haircut, his grandma says, “very handsome,” and he feels a bit less trodden down and a bit younger again.

***

And then January is slow and dull and he doesn’t get out of the house much really unless he’s dealing drugs or buying more fags.

He’s not sure when he got so caught up with Jules’ and Oscar’s shit. Not sure when this thing started where he trails behind them while they do deals of their own, or while they huddle in parks and fields and alleyways with dodgy people he doesn’t know to share a hit of whatever it is they fancy that night.

He gets sad sometimes. Lonely like he used to be. Heroin helps; makes everything in the world feel fine. Only in dire situations, though.

Still, January has him caught up in the half-there place. He forgets a lot. Jules gets frustrated because he’s always forgetting the daftest things he says when he’s high. He makes promises he can’t remember when he’s sober, but his roommate is kind - kind enough to let him off the hook for most of the things he owes him these days.

Drugs and money, that is. A few apologies here and there too, after nights cut short thanks to Curly’s weak stomach or empty skull or whatever else it is that demands he goes home immediately.

***

February.

What a blur it is. A girl tries to kiss him outside a club that he doesn’t manage to sneak into because he’s too young or too far gone or a combination of both. He feels shy and weird and says, “sorry love, I’m just a bit drunk,” because he feels too guilty to simply say ‘no.’

Fooled, the girl calls him a gentleman and gives him her number on a receipt but he loses it on the walk home - can’t even remember taking it out of his pocket. Can’t even remember walking home at all. Jules says he tried to smoke it which Curly thinks is fucking hilarious but doesn’t remember it and therefore decides he’s talking bollocks.

February. A Valentines party in his apartment.

Turns out ‘party’ means the usual five-man circle (together again) drinking and smoking and pretending they have an excuse to do it. They’re still laughing about the girl at the club last week, Oscar says, “maybe you’re gay,” but it’s only a joke. He remembers more laughing and drinking and having a good night until Jules offers him a line of coke for free, to sober him up a bit. Jeff says “don’t,” says “slow down,” says “take it as a sign to stop,” but he does anyway. It’s free. He doesn’t remember losing track and overdoing it.

He remembers waking up in Dean and Jeff’s apparent with sick on his top the next day.

Still February. His birthday.

Calling his dad in the morning is hard. Speaking to Genie and crying in his bedroom for some daft reason isn’t nice either. She’s forgot about a World War II project she was meant to do, is breaking her heart about it.

Spending a few hours on google and writing five-hundred words for her and figuring out how to send it in an email because the thought of her standing in front of her class with nowt to say kills him. She says there’s loads of spelling mistakes but she loves the bit about the Spitfires and he’s “the best brother in the world.”

Crying again when he gets off the phone because he’s a mard-arse apparently and he just misses her, alright?

He forgets to call Brandon - again.

He remembers going to a party and flirting with a boy called Robbie. Doesn’t realise he was flirting until he’s remembering later… Almost kissing him, feeling shy and weird, telling him, “I’m sorry love, I’m just a bit drunk,” because he feels guilty - again.

Robbie says “me too, I don’t mind,” but Curly does, so they don’t.

He remembers meeting Jules in the bathroom for another hit that night, hearing two men yelling in a cubicle of a club he cannot remember getting into, and then watching one of them storm out. The guy looks at Jules, dark brows pinched as he drags a hand through near-white hair and says, “the fuck are you looking at, red?” Then he rucks his denim jacket back over his shoulders and shoves past them on his way out.

He doesn’t remember taking the hit, blacking out.

He remembers waking up in Dean and Jeff’s apartment again with a black eye this time. They don’t wanna hang out with Jules anymore. He doesn’t ask why ‘cause he doesn’t wanna know.

The three of them spend the next day together and it finally all slows down.

They watch Trainspotting because Curly hasn’t seen it in ages and Jeff and Dean haven’t seen it at all. Curly remembers that day more than any other that month.

They just talk after the film - no more telly, no music, nothing. They just talk and talk about daft things they’ve all done and said. Silly stories and memories that Curly thinks are happy until he says them out loud and they all seem to make him feel sad.

“You miss England,” Jeff tells him like it’s something Curly really needs to know. He supposes he’s forgotten to acknowledge it recently.

“I miss my family,” he says. Brandon too - misses having a friendship that feels unconditional.

They get weed-high in the evening and all get ‘choose life’ tattoos that same night - Curly’s on his knee, Jeff’s on his shin and Dean’s on his bicep. Curly does Dean’s for him because he can’t get the angle right himself. He panics because it’s wonky but Dean says “it’s perfect.”

“Can I borrow it?” Curly asks, handing the tattoo gun back to his mate.

“Absolutely fucking not,” Jeff answers for Dean, who laughs and adds, “I’ll have to teach you first.”

Curls says, “mint,” because yeah, he supposes it sounds like a better plan than jabbing the needle in and hoping for the best.

Trainspotting is their favourite film now, even though Jeff and Dean struggle to understand the accents and think it’s an ‘inaccurate representation.’

Of Britain or addiction, Curly’s not sure. How would they know, anyway?

Jeff drives him home a little before midnight and Jules is passed out on the sofa with a bag of frozen peas on the ground beside him. His arm hangs over the edge of the couch and his knuckles are bruised but Curly doesn’t ask why because he doesn’t wanna know.

Oscar’s in the kitchen and he says “oh, you’re back,” and pours three mugs of coffee.

“Course I am,” Curly replies and they both hear Jules groan in the living room. His eyes dart towards the door and then back towards Oscar again and he whispers, “have we fallen out?”

Oscar chuckles, shakes his head. “It’s not you, man. Jules just gets like that. Don’t cry ‘bout it.”

He doesn’t know what he’s not crying over, but he nods anyway and, after that, nobody talks about whatever it is that happened the night before.

That evening he calls Brandon and they both (pretend not to) sulk over the phone. Brandon isn’t lonely - says he’s met a girl, and Curly is jealous but he’s happy for him. He doesn’t tell him how lonely it gets here, just tells him the best parts that make Brandon say, “mate, I’m so jealous, but I’m so happy for you,” but it doesn’t sound as sad when Brandon says it as it does when Curly thinks it.

He remembers saying he’s tried, but he can’t remember falling asleep.

#Reading Rules of Attraction honestly helped me understand my OWN writing style so much more wow #ch #ch5 #writing

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lesbitchka · 7 years

Text

(submission)

alright so i’m gonna dump my long long club story in here (cw for q slur stuff, some mentions of prior abuse, kink, drag) this is gonna be really long, i’m sorry! my way of narration is kind of obnoxious

i’m a copresident of my campus’ lgbt group after i was asked by someone in my class to run for office during my first semester at my current college. i’d never been to a meeting before, but i accepted, honored to have been invited. in retrospect, that kind of should have been my first red flag- being asked to step in in an administrative role to a club i had absolutely no familiarity with. i’m a white, autistic trans man who is on the aro/ace spec because of my history of trauma. this will be important later on

i showed up to the election and was elected handily, because apparently the person i was running against has a history of being abusive? i don’t know anything about that. anyway, at the same meeting, the person who had held my position before me, a nonbinary trans woman, was ousted publically and stormed out of the room, furious. at the time, i wasn’t too bothered by it. this person had a history of posting weird, intimidating right-leaning stuff about “defending someone’s right to free speech all the way up until they act on it”- that includes threats to murder and rape people, in her own words- and mocking club members for mental health problems. all around, a legitimately abusive person that i totally understood why she’d be removed. and over the summer, that was that- no further discussion.

i moved across the country to the la area to live with my longterm partner over the summer. during that time, we lived in a disadvantaged area that was primarily latinx, close to anaheim, where over the course of the summer we heard a lot of police violence come out of, both on the news and in word-of-mouth from our (primarily trans) friend group. despite being white, this left me worried about police violence towards me for other reasons; ie, i was an unmedicated trans man in a relationship with another unmedicated trans man, subject to different types of police violence should anything happen to our home, which we were sharing with a latinx family. while nothing became of these fears, this, also, will be important

when i got back on campus, i took up my new position and started getting involved in club affairs. i noticed from a very early point there were some small issues, but nothing that was really a dealbreaker- the club had a strong focus on kink and many board members had a tendency to be very public about their sex lives in advertisements and tabling opportunities for our group, which, while i assumed i was being oversensitive about because of my trauma, i noticed offput several prospective members who investigated our table. when campus police swept through the club fair, equipped and in full uniform, i expressed my discomfort- a holdover from my time in a troubled area, hearing about my white trans male friend face obstruction and hostility when turning to the police in a domestic violence case, having been home for less than a week- and was met by the only nonwhite member of our board explaining that he didn’t feel uncomfortable with the police there, so it was kind of ridiculous that i did and i shouldn’t. which may have been true, but jesus, felt pretty shitty to hear my feelings on the thing were bad. i also requested that we not refer to ourselves as the q*eer club when hosting events and referring to my membership and was told by the same administrator that because he is latinx and likes the word, no one else should have any reason to take issue with it, b/c he was most strongly effected by pulse…? that was his reasoning for why we should keep using the q slur. again, a bunch of small things i could easily brush off, but things that stuck out

things didn’t get really bad until this semester. over winter break, two things happened. the aforementioned nonwhite board member we had was hired by the school and is no longer legally allowed to be involved in any club’s board. also, i started dating a member of our club, a nonbinary transfeminine person (gonna call them bug for this post) who’s two years younger than me and getting their feet in school. i was feeling really awful after a week-long hospitalization early in the semester and having my longterm partner across the country; they were facing academic difficulties and poverty that will probably keep them from returning next semester, so it arose from mutual need and desire to support one another, with mutualistic understanding of the fact that our relationship is probably on a timeline. bug came into our school hoping to get involved in lgbt activism, so when we had elections after winter break, i encouraged them to try out.

it’s also worth mentioning that bug was and is one of only three transfeminine club members who would regularly show up to meetings. the other two, who i’ll call mercury and simone, are both older than me; mercury was part of the board before i joined, and simone joined at the same time as bug, due to our awareness of our club’s appearance due to having something like 30 regular attendees and only three transfeminine ones; even now, simone is the only one who identifies as a trans woman, not nonbinary.my roommate, who i’ll call marcie, also joined at this time, becoming our only nonwhite board member.

so, convergence of events: bug and i start dating, and bug, simone, and marcie all join this club. things are great at first! everyone loves each other, we’re all excited to be working with our friends. i’m overjoyed to have my roommate, one of my best friends, and my brand new datemate working with me on something i’m really passionate about.

when we try to put together our first event of the semester, though, things go HELLA south. the new director of the board, the boyfriend of the guy i had a couple issues with at the beginning of the year, asks the board what kind of shirts we want for our event: tanks or tees. bug speaks up first, saying that they don’t want a tank because tanks show their shoulders too much and make them feel dysphoric. simone and mercury echo bug’s sentiments; i, knowing that our membership has had some issues with our lack of inclusion for transfemmes, decide to go with the transfemme voices on our board. this becomes the biggest controversy we’ve yet faced as a board. the director becomes enraged, talking about how tanks make him LESS dysphoric, how for our last event he got baseball shirts that make him dysphoric and that he hates (and that he also wears almost every time i see him, hm) so we should make a concession for him to get a shirt he likes. he tells us to vote; me, bug, simone, and mercury all vote for tanks, which means that we have the majority on our seven person board. the situation is now wholly out of control, the director gets angrier and says we’re getting tees anyway, marcie says something off hand about how it’s not a dysphoria contest, which makes bug feel like shit because they brought up the topic of their dysphoria first as a reason they personally wouldn’t wear the shirt if we bought it and then was countered by our director’s claims of how dysphoric tees would make him. simone says that this invalidation of her and bug’s lived experiences and the hostility they were met with for asking for a shirt with transfemmes in mind is transmisogynistic behaviour. remember that guy who got hired by the school? he steps in now to defend his boyfriend and shuts down the conversation (yeah, he’s still in our group chat, despite that being, y'know, illegal.) everyone is furious. more than a few people are brought to tears.

pretty fucking dumb, right? over shirts. don’t worry, though, we’re heading into some even more ridiculous shit.

the next time the board talks, it’s to say that we’re obviously all very upset with each other and we shouldn’t meet in an unmediated environment. (spoiler alert: what has come to be known as shirtgate was at the beginning of february and we JUST had a group meeting for the first time ever since that this sunday…) we hold our event successfully despite the fact that half the board isn’t talking to each other. i’m feeling hurt and isolated from my friends and withdraw a bit, spending more time with bug. the board is divided into two tiers: the wider board, and the presidents’ board, which i’m on, and which, coincidentally, is basically just our regular board without transfemmes. ha. the presidents’ board meets and discusses how unacceptable the situation is, attempting to appeal to me to change “sides” because those rowdy transfemmes, right? i’m grossed out and feeling like i’ve been isolated from the group of people i have a vested interest in supporting and stand my ground, officially marking myself as no longer one of the InGroupTM. for the most part, i do nothing as a club administrator from here on out. things are magically out of my hands. hm

our next big controversy happens when we hold a screening for moonlight, about a week after it won best picture. this is a public event, and many people who are not in our club show up; i assume that all we are providing is advertisement and prepare to enjoy the movie. here’s where me being autistic comes in. the lounge is crowded with people and i’m surrounded by some of my favourite people, including bug, who’s off their adhd meds for now and doesn’t have a lot of impulse control. my friends respond audibly to some of the scenes, cos we’re a bunch of gay kids who’ve rarely-if-ever seen representation for ourselves before. due to being in a social setting where the people around me that i trust, esp bug, are being very emotional and responsive to the film, i can’t really not join in and make noises of excitement too- it’s just the way my aspie brain works, tbh. i feel awesome! this is great!

it’s not great. the event ends and people are furious, complaining about how the movie was ruined by the talking during a handful of scenes. the board cracks down on me and bug (and, to a lesser extent, simone) for being vocally excited. in retrospect, fair, and definitely something that means i should stay away from crowds more often. however, this was an environment of friends, i thought, not people who’d get really upset with me for unintentionally making sounds of excitement when, for the second time ever, i see gay men represented in the context of a film. marcie is furious most of all, as our only non-white board member, and goes on a facebook rant, vagueing about not just bug, simone, and i, but about our friends and members who were not quiet either. me and bug’s close friend, who i’ll call mirage, is incredibly hurt by this, as marcie uses their non-whiteness to describe why they’re frustrated by this behaviour; mirage is a nonwhite nb kid who was most vocal during a scene in the movie where the protagonist hits a bully with a chair, making an audible joke about it, which they did because they found the scene triggering after they were hit with a chair by a teacher growing up. this was also the moment of conversation marcie had the biggest issue with. bug and i are feeling pretty shitty about our neurodivergences and how the club has previously made promises to be understanding of symptoms, but this seems to only extend to depression and anxiety. the club fractures further.

we’re basically not talking to each other unless we have to at this point, with bug, simone, and i staying close, marcie, the director, his boyfriend, and their housemate making their own group, and mercury disengaging from all of us entirely. we hold an event. it’s called kink 102 and is the sequel to an event we had in first semester that i missed during my hospitalization, where apparently the director and his boyfriend demonstrated floggers and crops on each other in front of an audience who came to learn about kink, not expecting to be part of a scene. people are very apprehensive about this, especially because we have had several meetings focusing on kink and drag- our director’s passions- and none focusing on, for example, nonbinary people and aroace-spec people in the lgbt community. this becomes a huge point of contention, as several ace-spec people approach various board members and express their discomfort with how overwhelmingly sexual many of our meetings are and how our director seems so keen to involve strangers in his sex life- he has admitted rather freely to being both an exhibitionist and a voyeur. a student makes a public post about how we’ve had two meetings about kink and none about aroace lgbt people. bug steps in and comments a bit snarkily about how much they agree, having heard me, their ace-spec boyfriend, talk a lot about how i’ve been honestly triggered by some of our events; bug is very much not an ace person and is in fact an exhibitionist and voyeur themself, but thinks the issue is this important. i step in as well as a board member, feeling the need to address a public complaint, and reassure them that i would very much like to spearhead a meeting about aroace people, including the different ways it can manifest and how it isn’t equivalent to non-heterosexuality, as the only ace-spec board member. i admit to my discomfort at the environment we often create and say that it’s something we certainly need to work on.

shit pops off in the chat, but only at bug! not at me! hmmmm!!!!

bug stops talking in the group chat unless prompted at this point.

the post goes mostly unresolved; all that happens is bug (and, later, simone, who posted a rather snide comment on the same forum expressing her frustrations with the group as a whole, both backing up me and bug, and as a trans woman who’s been repeatedly involved in drag events now) get CHEWED THE FUCK OUT. simone says something about how we have way too much focus on kink and it makes it seem like we’re saying it’s equivalent to being lgbt. the director loses his shit over this, and says, quote, “Thanks for invalidating my identity. I can’t discuss this further. Erasure of my culture.” which is… a lot, as someone who was abused in the guise of kink by older, paedophilic partners.

i go to the kink meeting with bug because i want to learn how to tie them up safely and am hoping to learn about knots, but mostly because i feel like if i don’t go, i’ll get yelled at. there is no guide for tying knots. there is a brief discussion of consent, then the director ends up topless, getting whipped against the wall of the student lounge. a friend of mine sits next to me and sucks a fucking pacifier the whole time

we still haven’t met in person in months. this sunday, we finally meet. the director reveals he is resigning and also dropping out of college and tells us it’s mostly because of simone, which, wow, okay, is a lot to hear from someone who i spent hours counceling about whether or not he should go to the inpatient i went to and take a semester off first semester, before simone was ever even involved. the meeting is mostly just that. simone doesn’t come. we have a president’s meeting after, which basically equates to us staring awkwardly at bug until they leave and mercury retreating to their room, cos we hold this at the director and his boyfriend’s house. not weird and awkward, definitely doesn’t feel like we’re having a boys’ club meeting. nope.

by this point i am distraught. i’m feeling like complete shit because all these people, despite their previous rounds of drama and weird comments, were my friends. i was so excited to work on something i cared about with people i cared about, and now no one even talks to each other. i confess my concerns about everything to the group, and shit gets wild. the director is quick to tell me that things aren’t my fault, but that his issue is with simone and bug. and then he starts getting really shitty. i had previously mentioned how eager i was to protect the incoming freshmen, because my first year of college, i was raped by a trans woman who proceeded to manipulate her way through the lgbt club on that campus to turn people against me and keep me from speaking out, which resulted in my utter academic failure and dropping out. the director begins to tell me that, in my personal goal of keeping freshmen safe, i have made bug entirely dependent on me, that the fact that they don’t talk to half the board anymore is on me, using words and phrases i used to describe my previous abuse to say that, hey, turns out you’re abusive. which… is fuckt, coming from the person who capslocks curse words in the group chat and then has his SCHOOL STAFF boyfriend come in to tell us how justified he is. the boyfriend tells me i never should have expected us to be friends. which i guess is true, but hey, i was introduced to the group by their roommate way back last year, and really didn’t know what to expect at all. i am also told that kink is easily as important as lgbt activism in our history, that it should be considered a part of the acronym, that all these young kids uncomfortable with two three-and-five-year-older people acting out scenes under our banner at our events need to learn their history. any second now i’m expecting our name, LGBTQU+, to grow a k. hilarious that they’re concerned about history now, but me asking us not to use the q slur to describe our members is ridiculous because no one’s bothered by it anymore!

i meekly offer to step down, but the director says that because he’s leaving and his roommate is graduating, we won’t have a board anymore if i step down, considering bug and simone are ready to leave. the boyfriend and the director lecture me for like five solid minutes about how this is the oldest club on campus and if i don’t stay, it will collapse and that will be on me, basically. so yeah. accusing me of perpetrating the same abuse my ex perpetrated against me, then guilting me into staying to keep our club active- a club that is now reputed for being more focused on kink than lgbt events, for not being welcoming to nonwhite people or trans women (forgot to mention at one point students formed a qpoc group separate from us and the boyfriend was FURIOUS and tried to overtake it, using us, the board that was entirely white except for him :) ), and for being the biggest cesspit of drama on campus. in other words, a club i would very much like to l e a v e.

i know this wasn’t entirely mogai hell or ace discourse, but there’s shades of every kind of shit in this group, tbh. and i really just needed a place to vent about it. i know we all made mistakes, but jesus, i’m hemorrhaging friends and feeling like dirt, my pals. i just need space to whine.

oh one more thing, forgot to mention: the director tried to use bug to tell me to get a fetlife, because bug has one, because they’re not ace. also had bug ask me to pose with them naked for one of our event posters to circumvent me talking about how i felt unconfident naked, which thankfully never happened. also seem to think that because bug and i have sex i’m not ace anymore, therefore we shouldn’t talk about ace stuff because we don’t have an ace board member? didn’t know where to put these ones, but yeah! ;)

ok! sorry for the length of this. thank you for listening! <3

#this is wild from start tofinish #rape /#submission #club stories

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