#as someone who never really questioned being aro after we finally read the definition

[aro-culture-is]

is there like. an actual way to know if you’re emotionally attached to someone or if youre feeling romantic attraction towards them. because im currently dating someone (who knows im arospec just doesnt know that im questioning fully aro) and i care about them, but saying i love them doesnt feel right?? its not that i DONT, but it just seems so.. romantic i guess?? i wouldnt mind doing “romantic things” with them but at the same time i dont know if thats just related to like queerplatonic attraction i guess?? AHG I JUST DONT KNOW 😭😭

unfortunately, it's up to you to decide how you interpret your feelings.

bearing in mind i'm an extremely STEM type of person, i personally find it comforting to recognize that we're trying to classify chemical brain soup into some distinct boxes, and there's going to just be some things that we interpret into a miscellaneous pile. it's like packing - yeah, ideally everything has One Place, but realistically? sometimes you just gotta put things where they come with you, perfect placement be damned. yeah, maybe it would be nice if - for example - you could easily sort hand lotion into either nighttime things, bathroom things, or things to carry with you... but sometimes it's just something that's going to be it's own mix of categories, and most folks who really care where you put it are micromanaging your life, not being helpful.

I can't tell you if what you're feeling is for sure romantic or platonic or queerplatonic or anything else - what i can tell you is that it doesn't have to matter unless you feel like it does. if you're uncomfortable with something, labeled or not, then that's something you can work on. maybe there's a boundary, a lesson, or a time to just simply say "this is uncomfortable," and let that be enough for you.

if saying "i love you" isn't your thing - maybe talk with your partner. you don't have to say everything right now! you could just say, "hey, I've been thinking recently and realized I don't really like saying that I love you. I think it's related to me being aro-spec. I was wondering if there are other ways I can help you feel loved/appreciated in our relationship while I'm thinking about this." hopefully, your partner will be understanding. if not, then hey, maybe it's time for a reevaluation anyways.

I know this isn't a nice, concrete "if A then B" formula, and that's frustrating. but I want you to know: you are not alone. there's so many folks in positions like you, and honestly, i'd be surprised if there isn't some sort of talking space specifically dedicated to folks questioning this kind of stuff. everything will be okay, no matter how you feel.

I hope this helps.

[disasterdemi]

(1/3) 🌼 Hiii!  Uhm, well, I would like to share this!

I'm bisexual and maybe demiromantic.

I've always thought it was normal to feel romantic attraction only for someone you have a emotional bond.  I was like "this is how it works, right? You can't be romantically attracted to people you don't know". Yeaahh... :/. I did my research and now I know that it's not really like that c:. So, I asked two of my friends about how they felt romantic attraction and surprise?! they expressed the same as me!  I was curious about the coincidence but also I think because of this it felt typical. At least, every time we talked about romantic relationships we were always like sAME BESTIE.

(2/3) 🌼 Now, the reason why I say "maybe" at the beginning comes with regard to crushes. As I researched and read experiences, several people on the spectrum expressed they varely or never had crushes and then, there was me, who always said: I had a LOT of crushes. Questions came to my head "Does that mean I'm not a demiro? What does it mean to have a crush on someone? What's a crush?" For me, designating someone as one implies I'm physically attracted or there's a quality I like. BUT, that doesn't mean I want a romantic relationship with that person, don't want kisses, nothing of that nature with them. It's something "superficial", nothing deep. So with that concept, someone I've only met once and is physically attractive to me can be my crush. And that confuses me. I also consulted a friend about this question and we came to the conclusion that the concept of crush it's something personal, something that I define for myself.

(3/3) 🌼 In my life I will have a lot of crushes but I haven't even "in love" romantically. I've only wanted to be in a romantic relationship twice so far and they were with two friends that I've known for years. Being one of them who made me realize that I am bi. In the end, I know that I'm the one who has the final say, even so I would like to hear someone else's perspective. After writing this I think now I'm more sure that I'm demiromantic. Sorry that it was too long and also if there are many mistakes or something feels rude! english isn't my first language:c

Hello hello fellow bisexual demiromantic! Sorry it took so long for me to answer...

I actually think you make some really great points in here that I've had knocking around in my head but haven't ever really put into words.

So first of all, if you're wanting an extra opinion on whether you're demiro, I think it certainly sounds like you "qualify" (scare quotes because if a label is comfy, it's yours to use). I'm going to talk about this more in a sec, but it's important to note that the definition of demiromanticism is requiring an emotional bond to experience romantic attraction towards that person. Not a crush.

Now here's where the stuff you're talking about, and I've been contemplating, comes in. I think you're absolutely right that a crush is/can be whatever you define it to be. We even see allos using it like this -- e.g. "girl crush" for women that other women admire.

BUT in general it tends to encode romantic attraction, and most (alloromantic?) people will read it that way. Yes, this will often include other types of attraction too, particularly for perioriented people, but I've found it gets interpreted as including at least romantic attraction.

I think it could be compared to "love" or even "in love". People may have their personal definitions of these, that may or may not be romantic, but in general these phrases - particularly the latter - will be read as romantic (thanks amatonormativity).

So (I believe) this is the reason why so many aros tend to say they've never/rarely had a crush, or that they've realised what they thought were crushes, weren't actually. They are using "crush" as synonymous with romantic attraction. I myself have said that - there are people I labelled as crushes at the time (probably alterous/sexual/something) that I no longer label as such because now "crush" means romantic attraction to me, and it makes me feel more secure in my demiro identity to say that I realised they weren't crushes (aka romo attraction).

It's why words like squish and smush and lush have been coined - to use the idea of a crush but without the automatic romantic connotations.

But there's no reason why you shouldn't use the word crush however you like. We've been doing that with "love" for a long time, and "in love" more recently - reframing it and using it in a non-amatonormative way that makes sense to us. (I'd suggest looking into lovequeer if you haven't already).

So I hope that maybe cleared up the "am I demiro if I've had lots of crushes but not romantic ones?" and what is and can be meant by "crushes"... Thanks for offering me an outlet to work through my thoughts on this I guess??? 😅😅

Also yeah I had a similar problem with people in my life probably also being arospec so not realising it's not the norm haha

Though it doesn't sound relevant to your situation, I should also add that demiromanticism isn't about the number of crushes you've had or how long it takes to form that bond/attraction - some people may have this happen rly quickly/easily and have lots of (romantic) crushes :))

[superhero--imagines]

Part 1 here! / Part 2 Here! / Part 3 here!

A/N: I already know some of y’all are going to be mad, it’s 2020 and twilight needs some diversity, don’t @ me.

* You’re not really sure how you got here

* “This ones done”

* Edward holds out the blood bag to you, carefully pulling out the needles from you beloved Deer, Hayden.

* “Ah, thank you.” You place it carefully along with the others, before lavishing Hayden with affection

* “You were so good today! You’re going to get extra carrots, yes you are!”

* You’re aware of Edwards gaze on you as he disinfects the injection point.

* “You know it’s illegal to have Deer as pets in Alaska don’t you?” The corner of his mouth is quirked in the smallest smirk you have ever seen, and you roll your eyes

* “Tanya got a permit, the official stance is they’re her deer, I just take care of them for some extra pocket money”

* Not that anyone would venture into the “siren house” to ask questions

* You knew people were probably wary of coming up to the estate, even the mail man looked dead scared when he left Irina’s Lululemon packages in the mailbox

* But you didn’t think the locals legit called the manse “The Siren House”

* Edward told you they used to call it “The Witch House” but then, upon seeing the Denali sisters, changed it to Siren

* Edward doesn’t say anything, just moves to take the filled blood bags up to the house

* Ever the gentleman

* You really thought Edward would show up once, figure out he couldn’t read your mind, and retreat into his own moody silence.

* You figured you would mostly be dealing with Carlisle, who would teach you how to draw blood from your heard of deers, and then you would be on your own.

* But instead it was Edward who volunteered to do it for you, Carlisle was busy with his day job after all.

* He shows up once a week, usually after school, and carefully extracts the blood

* Then he puts them inside the fridge and leaves

* You really don’t get what’s going on, if he hates you so much why even bother coming over in the first place

* You’re about to fall into your usual rhythm of handing him the blood bags, which he then puts in the fridge when he breaks your routine

* “Why-“ your head pops up from the small pile of blood bags and to him. He’s looking away, but then his gaze meets yours. “Why go through all this trouble for a few deer.”

* You grin and hand him a blood bag

* “Another vampire might say the same thing to you, why go through all the trouble for a few humans?”

* He flinches, and you laugh. He’s so unaware of himself it’s actually funny

* “For the record, I do it because they remind me of my (Dog/Cat/Pet).” He quirks an eyebrow at that.

* “Your pet?”

* You nod. You’re number one concern on arrival here had been whether your dog was okay, but sifting through your memories of this life, you realized your dog had passed away in the middle of high school.

* “When I look into their face, all I can think about is my dog” you shrug, it’s the same with bears and other animals too.

* “Also, it’s kinda disgusting to drink that blood straight out of the animal.”

* Draining the blood must have deducted something from the taste, you can’t imagine what that skunky revolting flavor would have been like if you were drinking straight from the animal.

* Edward laughs. It’s the first time he’s laughed around you, pearly white canines in full view, the skin at the corner of his eyes folds

* It’s cute, very boyish. You get what Bella was talking about now

* “You get used to it after a while” he shrugs

* You shake your head, no one should ever have to drink that crap

* “Here, try some of my blood” you say it like you’re offering him some cookies you made. You pick up one of the bags, still warm, and he quirks an eyebrow

* This isn’t the first time you’ve offered, usually he declines and rushes to leave

* One time it looked like he might say yes, but then he noticed Tanya and excused himself.

* He accepts the bag, holding it up with one hand

* “Do you pour it in a mug?”

* And so you and Edward sip your blood-Capri-suns in the kitchen that’s only now started to be used

* You sit in the counter cross legged, while he leans against the adjacent counter. Both of you silently sipping your meals.

* “This is really good” he finally says, his blood bag almost empty.

* “Who’d you have? I’ve been trying to add different veggies to their meal to see if it brings out a different flavour profile.”

* He had Henrietta, who you had been giving more citrus too. Partially for flavour, and partially because she’s your favourite

* “It kind of tastes like...fruit punch” Edward recalls after a prolonged minute.

* He seems so nostalgic, you wonder how long it’s been since he’s had human food

* “I think genetics have something to do with the flavour too, the breed from this region all seem to have a fruity aftertaste”

* “I’m partial to deer since they don’t have a strong game taste aftertaste.”

* “Yes! That part is the worst, it’s like eating a skunk” You scowl and he laughs again.

* You know he doesn’t belong to you, he’s Bella’s, in a few years she’ll be all he thinks or cares about.

* But maybe the two of you can be friends until then.

* All at once the moments broken, Edward stands a bit straighter, the smile on his face gone.

* You turn to look behind you to see Carmen.

* Her head is tilted to the side, a smile tugging on her lips

* “You both look like you’re having fun.”

* After that the conversation is pleasant, but it definitely stutters until Edward eventually leaves.

* “I think he likes you” You’re reading a book by the fire, the gentle heat is nice and it sets the mood.

* “What?”

* Carmen’s grinning

* “The Cullen boy is interested in you.”

* You just shake your head. You doubt it, Edwards only got a one track mind for one person. And it’s not you

* “It would be nice if we could be friends though, I don’t really know many other people my physical age.”

* Carmen stops mid-stitch on her embroidery hoop

* “Is that something you want? Because the Cullen’s have other’s your a-“

* “I don’t need you to set up play dates for me Carmen”

* “Understood”

* Edward comes by regularly, to help you with your animals. You’re both always under the (discrete) supervision of one of your guardians (excluding Tanya of course.)

* And with each visit you learn a little more about him

* You find out that right now he’s masquerading as a senior in high school, he’s considering going to college for veterinary sciences

* “Why veterinary sciences?” You wonder if he’s about to poach your best deer and start his own blood business when he shrugs

* “It’s one of the few degrees I don’t have”

* You’re drinking blood-Capri-suns out on the porch, he’s still in his school clothes, including a very puffy jacket

* “What were you going to do?” Your raise an eyebrow and he elaborates “before you turned, what were you plans for the future.”

* “I was on my graduation trip, I was going to college in the fall”

* You got accepted into your safety school with a generous scholarship.

* Edward doesn’t press any further. But you can tell that he wants too.

* Many nights go by, you experiment with you animals diets, have supervised hang-outs with Edward, you meet Carlisle every so often who basically gives you therapy and helps you control your emotions

* Life is good

* But your growing complacency with the situation is starting to bother you

* You haven’t forgotten about Alec and Jane who are still fighting so hard to survive, or the countless others who would prefer this way of life if they only knew

* You know the minute you start being content is the minute the world wins

* So every night -or really every so often, you’ve lost all perception of time, the nights in Alaska are totally fucked and these heathens don’t even have a damn clock. Your only really sign of time is the mail man dropping off amazon packages- you sit and dream

* You think about giving back to the community, about saving your friends, and about dethroning fucking Aro

* You’re only at the beginning now, there’s still so much work to do, but it’s a start

* You hear a noise and your eyes open

* If you had a beating heart it would stutter when it saw Edward standing beside your bed, your hand moves on it’s own through reflex, clutching your heart

* Under the circumstances you would expect someone else to laugh, but Edward just looks confused

* “Are you...sleeping?”

* “I like to pretend, it’s a nice way to end the day” he raises an eyebrow at that

* “It’s 4 in the afternoon”

* “Well damn Edward, we don’t have any clocks in this house, how am I supposed to know what time it is.”

* He does laugh at that

* “Is it...nice?”

* “Yeah, it’s pretty relaxing, kills some time too.” Noticing the curious look on his face, you ask:

* “Do you want to try?” You pat the space on the bed beside you.

* You’re fully expecting for Edward with his old fashioned virtues to deny your suggestion. So you’re surprised that after several long seconds of silence, and a rather pained look, he adheres to your request and lies next to you on your bed.

* It’s a king size bed, so he’s at least three Great Danes away from you, but the closeness still surprises you.

* “What do I do now?” He says, eyes closed.

* “Daydream, or fantasise I guess, about things that happened in your day, or things you wish happened, places you want to go and memories you wish you could relive”

* “What do you usually dream about?” He asks, eyes open now

* “I think about Jane,” the answer is automatic, and you regret it as soon as the words come out. But Edward’s expression doesn’t change so you continue. “I think about my deers and my family too.” Most of the time you’re just thinking about what animal you want to excitement with next tbh

* “And sometimes I think about you.”

* And how glad you are to have a friend

* Edward doesn’t say anything for a long time, and for a second you hope he hasn’t misunderstood your words, you know he’ll never feel that way about you. All of those romantic feelings are saved for Bella

* “Would you like to come to my house sometime?” The questions throws you off, and your expression illicit’s a laugh from him. “Emmett and Esme are dying to meet the newborn from the Denali coven”

* That’s probably true for Esme, you’re pretty sure Emmett just wants to have some physical match with the “Volturi-reject”

* “That sounds fun, sure.”

* Maybe they have a clock in their house you can steal

* Edward shows up the next day in his shiny white Volvo to pick you up.

* On either side of you on the front porch are Carmen and Kate with their most fierce expressions (and behind them is Eleazer who just looks like he’s along for the ride)

* “Where are you going?” Kate asks

* “Our home on the other side of the mountain, you’ve been there before” Edwards got a small smile curling in his lips, and an eyebrow raised.

* “What will you do?” Carmen asks

* “My family’s having a board game night, I think we’re playing monopoly”

* “What time will you bring them home?” Kate intervenes, man they’re not even pretending to be polite

* “Well it’s not a school night-“ Seeing his joke isn’t going to land, he rethinks his words midway

* “Whenever they tell me to.”

* You’re half expecting to get a curfew, even though this household seems to operate without the concept of time, when Eleazer interjects

* “Well be safe, and have a good time.” He slides a backpack up your shoulders. “I packed you some blood bags in case you get hungry, Henrietta’s since I know that’s your favourite.”

* He’s the only one waving as you get into Edward’s car

* The view as you drive is breath taking, the snow covered mountains, abs crisp green trees

* Edward laughs beside you, at your awestruck expression no doubt

* “You don’t get out much do you?”

* You have your nose practically pressed to the glass

* “Not at all.”

* The Cullen’s home is reminiscent of the one from the movies. All light, with glass everywhere. It’s like a aurora, all wavy with no true shape

* “Welcome to our home (Y/N)” Carlisle greats you first, and behind him is... Esme

* She’s not at all like the books or the movie

* She’s definitely not white, you can’t tell exactly what race, but she’s definitely a POC.

* Her caramel cheekbones seem even more prominent when she offers you a smile.

* “It’s so nice to finally meet you, I’m Esme.”

* For some reason her being a POC, makes you feel more comfortable around her.

* Maybe you will ask her to draw up those plans for a proper barn.

* Edward stifles a laugh behind you, and you raise an eyebrow.

* “Emmett is dying to meet you upstairs.”

* You follow Edward up the stairs, finally meeting the family that spawned four books and a movie franchise.

* None of them look like they’re actor counterparts

* For one Emmett is black. And also really handsome, he’s got this Chadwick Boseman look alike thing going on and you’re down for it (RIP)

* Rosalie looks basically the way she was described in the books, all blonde hair and angel faced, but she’s the only one

* Alice is definitely Asian, she kinda looks like Lana Condor

* Jasper.... is ambiguously brown, but it still makes you let out a sigh of relief when you remember he was a Major in the CONFEDERATE army.

* More to the story than someone who was blatantly racist and supported slavery.

* They’re all beautiful, and they terrify you. You’re not exactly sure why, but something primal in you tells you to run away as fast as you can.

* But Edward lightly brushed the small of your back, pushing you forward. Right into the lions den.

* “Hello, I’m Rosalie”

* Looks like they picked her to be their spokesperson, all glittering smiles and flawless cheekbones. She extends her hand, and you lightly grasp it.

* “It’s nice to meet you.”

* It’s surreal to think how you know almost everything about this girl, while you two are virtually strangers

* Jasper introduces himself next, all smiles and quiet gentlemanly behavior.

* You’re not really sure what to expect with Alice, from what you know this girl has seen every future you could possibly have.

* Who knows what she saw

* But when she stands she hugs you

* “It’s good to see you!”

* “Alice, you haven’t introduced yourself”

* “Oh, right. I’m Alice”

* Emmett claps you on the back like you’re an old friend.

* “So, I heard you used to hang out with the sadist twins in the Volturi”

* You can practically feel the tension in the air, even Edward winces

* “They’re not so bad” really, what did anyone expect when they were in that environment

* Emmett grins

* “That’s bad ass”

* The rest of the night passes in a blur. The cullen’s game of monopoly includes some monstrous version where they put 8 different themed boards together and play in teams (You’re obviously on Edward and Alice’s team)

* They also have some sort of structure where they put four hotels together and called it a mega-hotel

* The whole thing blows up when Emmett accused Alice and Edward of using their powers to cheat

* “What do you want me to do, I can’t turn it off when I want Emmett, trust me I would especially when you and-“

* “Oh shut up Emmett, like we haven’t noticed Rosalie has an awful lot of $500 bills” Jasper interjects

* “It’s because you always pay me rent in small change!” She screams

* “Now-“ Carlisle tried to interject but Alice stands up

* “That’s a lie! I saw you steal from the bank several times when Esme wasn’t looking” Alice screams

* It goes on like this until Carlisle Declares the game over, and shoos everyone away.

* “Sorry, I would say it’s usually not like this, but I would be lying” Edward grins and you shrug

* “It was pretty fun and... entertaining in its own way” Edward beams at you, and once again, you definitely feel the dazzling effect Bella described in the movies

* “Should I... take you home now?” You can tell he doesn’t want to take you back yet, and if you’re being honest you don’t want to go back either

* The Cullen’s house has so much light, and you can see the stars so clearly here

* And if you’re being honest things seem to be way more entertaining here

* Edward takes you to a nook which houses a grand piano

* You’re fingers instinctively roam over the keys.

* “Do you play?”

* “Just a bit”

* You’re not the one who knew how to play, not really. But now this body is yours. You’ve thought about asking Carmen for a Piano, you’re sure they would love something that adds to the gothic feel of the mansion, but always cast it aside.

* You’re busy enough with your research.

* “Play me something” Edward grins.

* Alec had said the same thing to you when you were first taken by the Volturi, at the time your mind had raced wondering which piece would impress him the most. Which would aide in your survival.

* But looking at Edward now, you know that it’s not the same situation.

* He really does want you to play whatever your heart desires

* So you play “Love like you”, accompanied by your quiet voice reciting the lyrics

* At some point Edward sits beside you, playing in a deeper key, adding another layer of depth to your performance

* Wordlessly, afterwards he plays a piece of his own, Claire de Lune. Which you know is a remarkably hard piece.

* Still halfway you chime in, your super human fingers keeping up with him with ease

* And so it goes on like this, you play a modern song, waiting for him to catch up and he does the same with a classic

* Like a never ending game of cat and mouse

* It stops abruptly when Edward is in the middle of “moonlight sonata” when Alice clears her throat from behind you.

* “I hate to disturb,” there’s a teasing grin arched on her face. “But if you don’t drop them off, Carmen and Tanya are going to come over personally to retrieve them-“

* You see Edward wince, no doubt reviving Alice’s vision through his ability

* “And I don’t think anyone wants that.”

* You nod, moving to grab your backpack when you overhear Alice say-

* “You never let me play like that with you”

* Edward let’s out some sort of noise akin to a scoff

* “Where did you learn those songs?” He asks when you’re on the road

* Well you can’t tell him they’re from artists who aren’t known yet

* “Personal compositions” you murmur, and Edward grins his dazzling grin

* You talk about nothing but music until you pull into the familiar circle driveway of the manse

* Right when you’re about to thank him for a fun time, he gently stops you with a fleeting touch to your shoulder.

* “I’m graduating next month,” he hands you an envelope which you assume has his graduation card. “I was wondering if you would like to come to the ceremony.”

* You hold the card with both hands stunned, he’s already graduating high school?

* That means only 4 more years until he moves to Forks, and another two until he meets Bella

* And you realize that while time is frozen for both of you until the end of the universe, you’re the only one who isn’t moving forward

* “Yeah, I’d love that!”

* You try your best to smile, but your sure it comes off looking strange

* You don’t talk to anyone, heading straight for your bedroom

* What’s next for you?

[arotechno]

I don't know if it's cringe to wax poetic about your own writing, but I'm going to do it anyway. I am going to be spoiling the entirety of The Heartless, so I encourage you to read it (and reblog it/tell me what you think :pleading emoji:) if you haven't, otherwise this post will spoil it. I've just been thinking about it a lot, a year after I really got back into writing it, and I have some (lengthy) reflections on humanity and philosophy and being a good person.

The Heartless has always been a very personal story to me, and I really wanted to get it right, and that's part of why it took me so many tries to complete a version that I was happy with. The first version of the story went quite differently; I was 16 when I wrote it as a short story for a school assignment, in 2015 at the rising peak of d*sk h*rse on tumblr. In the original version of the story, Basil doesn't even exist. Bertrand lives. The story ends abruptly, post-assassination, because I had to write the entire thing in a day so I could turn it in on time. But the important distinction, to me, is that at the time I had only identified as aro for about a year. I was still really coming to terms with it, and since then as I've grown and changed and learned, Ace's story has too.

It was important to me, as I was writing The Heartless this time around, not to paint things in black and white. If Ace was going to question what it meant to be human, I wanted to explicitly divorce love from morality. You have someone like Marcus, who irrevocably sucks despite being "normal", and you have someone like Esther, who is kind and generous and has her own complicated experiences with love. Even Carita isn't necessarily bad, she just doesn't understand and has some prejudice to work through. There's Bertrand, who's kind of an asshole but a good person deep down, and Knife Boy, who learns and grows maybe more than anyone else in the story relative to how long he's "on-screen", if I'm being completely honest, but whose experiences overlap with Ace's in interesting ways. There's a grey area; I wanted everyone to seem sympathetic in some way (except Marcus, all my homies hate Marcus), because it was important for Ace to realize that being Heartless didn't make him demonstrably different from everyone around him. He makes mistakes, big ones, life-altering/life-ending ones, but it's not because he's Heartless. He's not evil or cursed, just human, and being human all along doesn't make him inherently good or more pure, but it doesn't erase the obvious differences between him and the people he meets, either.

In another story, Ace would have learned that "love was in him all along", that maybe the love potion DOES work on him, that maybe he DID have a heart all along and either he had blocked it out or he hadn't accepted that his love was "real" too. But I didn't want to do any of that. It matters that Ace is never "cured" or "changed". There was never anything wrong with him, and whether or not he "did love all along" doesn't matter. The point is that we're people too, and being a person is messy and hard but it's pretty cool, too. Ace strives to do what he believes is right, and actively beats himself up about it when his actions don't measure up to his morals. He chooses to be kind, not in spite of being Heartless, but in many cases because of it.

That was a really important lesson that I had to learn, too, and part of why I find voidpunk relatable as a subculture. There are plenty of people who would seek to dehumanize me or define my experiences as something broken, bad, or cursed. But I'm not cursed, and I'm just as much of a human being as anybody else, because I was born that way. As Basil himself says, love has very little to do with it: we're alive, and that's all there is to it.

Anyway, sorry for ranting about my own story. I'm sure that's a little self-centered. I have just been thinking a lot lately about voidpunk and lovelessness as a philosophy and the way my own experiences with dehumanization came through in The Heartless. It's just a really special story to me. I used to spend a really long time trying to patch holes in the original telling, and trying to find a way forward through a sequel or extended version, but what I came to realize was that things had changed so much that the story needed to change too. It's a story without an end; there isn't a final answer or a simple solution that will bring the equality and understanding we deserve. I couldn't write a definitive ending because there isn't one. We just keep moving forward, trying to live the best we can, and working together as a community. And as long as we know who and what we are and we don't let anyone else define that for us, then we'll be alright. I think that's the story 16-year-old me needed to hear, and I'm happy that I'm in a place now where I felt equipped to tell it.

[maybedefinitely404]

Day 26: Parental Moxiety

@tsshipmonth2020

Day 26 - You can’t see shades of your soulmate’s eye color a certain color until you meet [your soulmate] and look into each other’s eyes for the first time. (I misread the prompt! Whoops!)

Content warnings: mentions of lousy foster system, orphanage, implied past abuse/neglect, social workers, aro/ace character, past minor injuries (pet inflicted), mentions of anxiety and PTSD.

Word count: 2.8k

Note: Not beta-read

Patton never doubted the fact that he was lucky.

His heart always went out to those who were missing colors like green, and blue. It must be horrible, he thought, to be missing out on the hue of a grassy field or the sky forever being grey, even on clear days. But then again, meeting your soulmate after seeing nature as dismal shades for years must be amazing; trees suddenly lighting up in brilliant emerald and water becoming as crystal blue as a diamond. So he was grateful, because he was missing a color that was surprisingly rare to find in nature, if the shocking lack of grey was enough of an indicator. Grateful, because that meant he wouldn’t be missing out. Grateful, because Patton didn’t want a soulmate.

It had taken him years to realize why he was so adamant about actually finding his soulmate. Everyone, from his middle school class to his university study group to his coworkers now, had frequent conversations about the topic. Common ice breakers amongst groups were “what color are you missing?” and “tell us about the first time you saw ‘insert color name here’” and just anything else that reminded Patton of how little he wanted all of that. He was happy with his friends, happy with his family-- both blood and chosen-- and the idea of… romantic relationships just made him uncomfortable. He hated that it seemed to be the rest of the world’s main drive in life. Every time he explained his ‘predicament’, had to explain to someone that he was aro/ace and just didn’t want all that, he was met with pity looks. No one believed him when he insisted that it didn’t make him sad, he wasn’t just waiting for the right person, he just didn’t want it and that was okay. 

That didn’t explain why he was missing a color, though. If it were up to him, he’d spend the rest of his life content with the way it was going, not searching for a so-called “better half”. He wished that soulmates weren’t a thing, in full honesty. Because then he wouldn’t be reminded every time he looked at a dull lilac bush that no, the universe had paired him up with someone and it was only a matter of time until he was subject to meeting them. It was the thing he dreaded more than anything else.

These were the thoughts going through his mind as he fiddled with a pen between his fingers that appeared as grey to him, absently wondering what ‘purple’ actually looked like. The door to his right opened and he looked up, a bright smile spreading across his face.

“Hi, Mr. Sanders. My name is Deborah, I’m one of the social workers here.”

“Nice to meet you,” Patton said, his heart almost beating out of it’s chest. She took a seat across the desk from him, placing the file in her hands onto the pristine wood. He laid the pen back on the desk where he’d taken it from. 

“So,” Her tone was all business, but her eyes held a distinct sparkle that could only be taken as a good sign, “I’m the social worker of one of the children’s profiles you flagged on the adoption website. Do you remember a ‘Virgil Storm’?”

“Absolutely!” Patton remembered the picture of the kid well. A small boy sitting cross legged in a sandbox, looking at the camera with an expression that could only be described as disdain, hands buried in the sand. He was noticeably separated from the group, the hood of his black jacket pulled over his eyes despite the shining sun. After reading the small blurb about him, and immediately growing attached to the toddler that had been tossed around four foster homes in the single year he’d been orphaned, he’d clicked the small smiley face in the top right corner with no hesitation. 

“I was given your file, and after discussing it with your social worker, we’ve decided you two might be a match.”

Patton nearly dropped on the spot, trying in vain to hold back his huge grin, “I thought they said that could take up to a year!”

“That is our usual estimate. While, unfortunately, the adoption rate is a lot lower for single men, you were put through faster due to your profession. You being a therapist definitely pushed you forward in the right direction.” 

Opening the file, she pulled out a stack of papers and a single picture, handing them to him. The picture was the same as the one on the adoption website, so his eyes turned to scan the printed profile.

“This is all his current information. Known family history, allergies, education level, etcetera,” The social worker continued, gesturing to the file, “That picture’s a bit old. He just turned three. He’s had a… pretty rough go of it so far. The information about his parent’s passing are in his file, if you want to give the whole thing a read when you have the chance.”

Patton tore his eyes away from the photo, “And he’s a possible match?”

“Yes, he is. He needs a stable home environment with no pets and no other children, and due to the trauma he experienced, has severe anxiety. Him developing PTSD as he ages is a large possibility. He’s a bit of a tough nut to crack, but we believe he’ll thrive with you.”

He took a deep breath, nodding mutely along with her words. He didn’t trust himself to speak right now, not with the odd mix of pure heartbreak and elation flowing through him. The poor kid…

“You can take the file home, take some time to think about it-”

“No,” He said quickly, “I mean… I don’t need to think about it. How do you determine if we match well?”

Deborah blinked a couple times, taken back by his abruptness. “Well… chemistry after a first meeting, judging if the child’s uncomfortable with the other, and meeting with the child and parent weekly for the first three months, then bi-weekly for the next three. After a six month residency, we can get the adoption legalized by the court. Both your social worker and I will be there every step of the way to answer any questions, help with the adjustment process, and just support you both.” She looked to Patton with a raised eyebrow, “Are you sure you don’t want to take some time?”

“I’m very sure.” He’d flagged many profiles on the website, feeling an unexplainable amount of guilt every time he didn’t, but Virgil’s had stuck with him more than any other. The idea of a kid already riddled with social anxiety and trauma had hit him hard, and he wanted nothing more than to be able to help him through it. 

“Would you like to meet him?”

“Yes please,” He said before she had even finished speaking. She gave him a small smile and headed to the door, warning him it might be a while to convince the boy to come with her, so to just sit tight. 

When she’d closed the door behind her, Patton turned his attention back to the file on his lap. He might as well read it while she was gone, anyways. It didn’t take long for him to read the few pages of information, committing Virgil’s birthday to memory. A small part of his brain advised that that might not be the smartest thing to do, already getting attached to a child he hadn’t even met, but his heart broke reading over the history of someone so young, still a toddler, undergoing trauma that no one should ever have to go through. The poor kid watched his parents die, and they were pretty awful people to begin with. 

He’d read the file twice over when the door reopened. At first he thought she’d come back alone and his heart sunk, until she shifted to the side and revealed the small boy who’d tucked himself behind her. He wasn’t touching her, not holding the hand she had offered to him, just following steps behind, like he was equally scared of her as he was of everything else. Pulled over his head was the same black hoodie as in the picture, looking a size too small now. It took a lot of tugging for him to hide his hands in the short sleeves, an anxious sign that Patton recognized immediately. Though, it wasn’t hard to narrow down, not with the way he was absolutely shaking. 

Patton slid off his chair with no hesitation, smoothly lowering himself to the ground so he was closer to eye level with Virgil. Still, the young child pulled his chin even closer to his chest, adamant on not meeting the man’s eyes.

“Hey kiddo,” Patton cooed gently, “My name’s Patton. You can call me Pat if that’s easier, okay? What’s your name?” He already knew everything about him, obviously, but it seemed a smart choice to let the kid introduce himself; avoid spooking him.

“Virgil,” he whispered back, mouth half covered by the collar of his hoodie. 

“That’s a real nice name, kiddo.”

Finally, the small boy looked up, dark brown eyes barely peeking through his equally dark bangs. His head tilted to the side, not unlike a curious puppy, as he studied the man in front of him, the man who was willingly sitting on the floor for him. None of his foster parents had done that before, and he highly doubted his parents would have ever considered it. Thinking of his birth parents caused him to shrink in on himself slightly.

“How would you feel about living with me, Virgil?” 

He looked down, wrestling his hands free of the dirty sleeves to fiddle with his zipper. “Like a foster home? I don’ like foster homes.” His speech was slow and fumbly, like he was working with new words.

“No, not like a foster home. For good.”

“With other kids?” Hands flat, he pushed his bangs out of his face and ended up letting his hood flop back. “In my last foster home, there were four kids.” He held up four fingers to emphasize his point.

“Nope,” Patton chuckled, leaning over to reattach the velcro on Virgil’s sneakers, “It would just be you and me. But I live really close to a park, so we can go play with other kids any time you want. And I have some friends with kids your age, and whenever you feel ready, you can meet them.”

This seemed to send a flurry of mixed emotions across the toddlers face. He glanced at the social worker, who had taken her seat and was watching the meeting with rapt attention. 

“Do you have pets?”

“Nope. Why, do you like pets?”

He shook his head with clear fear, ruining all his hard work of pushing his bangs away as they fell right back into his eyes, “No pets.”

“Well, then it’s good I don’t have any.”

Virgil gave him a hard look and Patton was silent, letting the child scrutinize him with all the intensity of a rocket scientist. Watching the elder’s hands carefully, the kid dropped to the ground in front of him, slowly meeting his eyes again. Patton couldn’t help the wide grin that stretched across his face. 

“Welcome to the floor, kiddo.” And oh, it was a blessed day, because the tiny smile he got in return was enough to make his heart melt. “Tell me, Virgil, what’s your favorite show?”

“Paw Patrol.”

“Ah, a classic! Do you have a favorite pup?”

“Rubble,” He mumbled after a moment of consideration, scratching at the rip in his jeans, right over his knee, “He’s funny. He falls in the elevator, and he says ‘Rubble ooon the double!’”  

“You don’t like pets, but you like Paw Patrol? Why’s that?” He couldn’t help his own inner therapist coming out.

Virgil shrugged, “They don’t bark loud, and they’re little. And they don’t make big messes or bite. Dogs are cute but I don’t like them. Dogs are too loud and they leave a mess.”

He felt there was probably a lot to unpack there, but that could definitely wait for another day. Deep inside, he knew there must be some trauma buried with that sentiment. “Do you like cats?”

“No. They scratch and bite and hiss too much,” He held up his hand to Patton, showing him the light scars on the backs of them, “We had a cat named Whiskers and he did that. He’d come in my room at night and bite me.” 

“Just as well. I’m allergic to cats anyways.”

“I’m allergic to peanuts.”

Patton giggled, and a relieved expression crossed the younger’s face. “What about fish? They’re pretty quiet, and they for sure don’t bite. Do you like fish?”

He seemed to ponder this for a moment, before shrugging again, “I don’t know.”

“That’s okay. Maybe if you like fish, we can get some. How does that sound?”

Virgil perked up, his leg starting to bounce from where it was crossed under him, “Really?”

“Yeah, kiddo. We can also get you a new hoodie, since that one seems a bit small.” Of course, he meant to buy him more than just a hoodie, but he might as well start small. The very idea of getting a fish seemed to almost overwhelm him.

“I like my hoodie,” Virgil’s voice dropped and he curled in on himself, wrestling to pull the sleeves over his fingers again.

“Oh, that’s okay! You can keep that one, but we’ll get more, just so you can wear them when this one is in the wash.”

His eyebrows scrunched together adorably, his back relaxing. It hurt Patton, to think that having such basic needs met was a shock for him.

“If you two don’t mind, I’m going to talk to just Virgil for a little bit,” Deborah spoke up, causing Virgil to flinch. “Is that okay with you, sweetie?”

He nodded reluctantly, and Patton took his leave, sending Virgil one final supportive smile before closing the office door behind him. He let out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, before taking a seat in the waiting room. It would be a lie to admit he wasn’t already enamoured with the little kid, but the final decision wasn’t up to him. Ultimately, it would be Virgil and the social worker who would deem it a match or not. Knowing that’s what was happening on the other side of the door was enough to make his leg bounce nervously. 

He passed the time by pulling out his phone and sending a vague update to his friends. The onslaught of messages he got in return, mostly ecstatic, was enough to distract him as he waited to be called back in. Of course, not all the responses were enthusiastic, mainly from his parents and sister, asking if he was sure he was ready for this. Those, he just left on read. Because yes, he was ready. He had been for a long time. 

When he was called back into the room, Virgil was sitting in the much too large chair in front of the desk, his feet pulled up under him again and looking between him and the social worker. His hood was back on his head, sleeves covering his hands once more. 

“From what Virgil and I discussed, it seems we are ready to begin the process of moving him into your house, and beginning your residency period.”

Patton tried not to whoop at the news, grinning wider than he had all day. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this utterly elated, so light on his feet. 

They agreed to show Virgil the home, just to get him used to the layout before finally moving there, and he would come visit during the days for the next few weeks, still spending his nights in the orphanage. It was a gradual transition, one that Patton hoped went smoothly, because oh gosh he couldn’t believe this was happening. 

As he led Virgil out of the building, the small boy hesitantly reached up and took his hand, head tucked to his chest. He was so scared. Patton squeezed his hand a little, heart equally shattered and melted, as he walked to the social worker’s car and let her buckle him into her carseat. They agreed to meet at the house, and Patton pulled onto the main road, music blasting to try and drown out the indescribable joy bubbling in his chest.

If he hadn’t been so distracted, he might have noticed the pen he’d placed on the desk back in the office, would now have been a shimmering purple in his eyes.

[anakin-danvers]

to wish upon a star

Rex x gender neutral!reader

Request: “For a fic, from prompt list #2, "Look! A shooting star! Make a wish," with any character you want to write from the Star Wars prequel trilogy? (Not entirely sure who you write for, do I'll leave it up to you.)” as requested by @valkyriesandbrokenhalos​

Description: While on a mission in your home world, you take the time to enjoy the night sky. To your surprise, a certain Clone Captain decides to join you. 

Word count: ~2.2 k

Warnings: Fluff. This is pure and utter all fluff. Some drinking! Tinyyyyy bit of angst if you squint to see it. Also, first time writing for our boy Rex so please be kind!

A/N: I decided to do Rex for this fic after a suggestion from @acnini​ (also special shoutout to her for beta reading 💖)! I hope you all like it, especially you Aro! Thank you for participating in my celebration! 🥳💗 

P.S. I have another Rex request I am working on which will most likely be a part 2 for this!!

tags: @acnini​ , @catsnkooks​ , @kaminobiwan​

—

Sitting in a dinner hall in a table full of tipsy clones was not what you imagined you’d be doing when General Skywalker told you to pack your bag for the mission this morning. But here you are, in your home planet, eating delicacies you’d only dreamt of as a child. 

Music bounces off the walls, not loud enough to hurt your ears, but definitely loud enough to make it hard to think. You look around, feeling a bit overwhelmed with the setting you are in. Usually, you wouldn’t be attending these sorts of things; your position as an engineer for the 501st allowed you to stand on the sidelines, focus on your job and nothing more. But this is a special mission. The meeting General Skywalker has is with none other than the head of foreign operations of your home world Elzu. 

The small planet could have been as beautiful as Naboo, were it not for the exploitation of natural resources by the government. By the time Elzu joined the Republic, it was drastically divided. Those who had been part of the group exploiting the resources are still the ones in power now. The rest are left to fend for themselves, many immigrating to other planets in search of a better livelihood. Your parents were part of the latter group, taking you and your siblings to Coruscant when you were about 9 years old. Thanks to their sacrifice and hard work, you now have the job you have. 

So when General Skywalker asked if you’d be willing to join him and the 501st to the meeting as a point person for all things Elzu, you were hesitant. Elzu held many bittersweet memories, and you’d only been back a handful of times since your family had left all those years ago. General Skywalker had sensed your hesitation, and asked if instead you could help by giving him a list of the customs of the planet. However, as you were writing the list, you thought back to all the ways Skywalker and the 501st had helped you get to where you are, and knew that the least you could do was help with the trip in person. Though now that you’re here, you’re starting to wish you’d just stuck to the list. 

The boisterous laugh of Fives rips you from your thoughts. You blink a few times in an attempt to refocus on the present. You turn to look at Fives, who’s sitting at your table, in an attempt to see what he’s laughing at. When your eyes travel around the other clones in your table and settle on a rather flustered looking Dogma, you have an idea of what Five’s source of entertainment currently is. 

In spite of your otherwise uncomfortable feelings, you can’t help but smile. It was rare that the clones of the 501st were so at ease while on a mission. Seeing them all gathered in the main dinner hall enjoying good food made you happy, especially knowing this type of mission would be one of a kind. 

The eating and socializing continues, and though you converse with the clones around you, you mostly stay quiet. After deciding you’d had enough to eat, you excuse yourself and walk out of the dinner hall. 

You hate to admit it, but the palace you’re currently in is gorgeous. The large and intricate structure was built from different Elzian resources, Elzian marble being the most predominant. As you mindlessly walk down the hallway, you stay close to the wall, the smooth walls leaving a cool sensation on your fingertips. You keep walking around, not really knowing where you intend on going. That is, until you spot  a sliver of the night sky. 

Your feet make their way to the landing deck on its own. It isn’t until you feel the cool night breeze on your skin that you realize just how hot it is inside. Letting out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, you step out onto the seemingly unused landing deck. You almost gasp at the sight; the height of the deck makes you feel as if you’re in the sky. 

If there was one thing you’d always miss most about Elzu, it’s the sky. It’s easy to forget that there’s even a sky in Coruscant due to the endless bustle of traffic. But that isn’t the case here. No, here, the sky is clear, the stars densely decorating it to look like the most royal of sparkling gowns. 

You take a seat directly on the landing deck, sprawling your legs out in front of you and placing your hands on the durasteel ground. Maker, you can almost reach out and touch the stars, pick them like the fruit of a tree, with how close they seem. 

“Beautiful night.”

If you weren’t sitting, you would have jumped at the sudden voice behind you. However, as the initial shock leaves you, you recognize the voice, a deep honey voice you never get tired of hearing. 

Footsteps approach you, and you can feel them under your palms. They stop as two white and blue armored legs appear next to you. Your eyes follow the legs up to their owner’s face, the brown skin and blonde hair of your favorite person making the feeling of a thousand pairs of wings erupt in your stomach. 

“Rex.”

“How are you, nau?”

At the sound of his tone, you know he can tell you’re not feeling your best. You also know there’s no point in trying to convince him otherwise. 

“I’m doing okay, given the circumstances,” you say. 

Lightly dropping his helmet to his side, he takes a seat next to you. You look at him as he mimics the way you’re sitting, legs spread out in front of him, hands on either side of him. And honestly, you can’t help but admire just how beautiful he looks. 

Your eyes move from where you see his legs brushing your own, landing instead on his face. You find him looking at you, concern etched onto his features. 

“You know how I feel about this place, Rex. It doesn’t hold the best memories,” you finally say. 

“I know,” he simply says. 

He knows. Of course he knows. He knows because he’s been by your side when you’ve had a few too many drinks at 79’s and spilled all about your childhood hardships. He knows because he’s been by your side when you try to discreetly get information on how the less fortunate of Elzu are holding up with the war. He knows because he’s always been there, with you.

Relief washes over you when you realize you don’t have to explain all the feelings caused by being on Elzu. Bringing up your legs to hug them to your chest, you look up at the sky again, the smile from earlier returning. 

“Have you ever heard of shooting stars?”

“Shooting stars?” At his question, you nod. “I haven’t, nau.”

“Well you’re in for a treat tonight.”

His brow raises, and a faint smile paints his face. “Is that right?”

You nod again. “Elzu is known for its shooting stars, sometimes called flying stars. The people of Elzu believe they’re the souls of beings who have passed all around the galaxy as they make their way to their final resting spot. Legend has it they grant wishes.”

Rex laughs lightly, not in a mocking way, but rather in a surprised way. For someone who’s usually surrounded by so many facts, Rex doesn’t expect you to be so invested in old tales. 

“Hey, I’m being serious!” you say, a laugh coming out of you as well. “I used to make a wish every night when I was a kid.”

Rex won’t ask what you wished, you know that. He doesn’t want to impose, pour salt on the wound that is already being constantly poked at while being here in Elzu. But either way, you continue, part of you needing to tell him what you wished for all those years ago. 

“I’d initially wish for childish things; a new toy or the chance to taste one of those many pastries they have inside. But then the guilt would creep in, and instead I’d wish for the star to bring my family and I stability. Not riches, those weren’t necessary, just stability. Food on the table, a roof over our heads, shoes on our feet. And the next night I’d do the same again: wish for something childish then scrap it for a worthwhile wish.”

As you finish, you don’t know what you expect Rex to say. You don’t know if you even expect him to say anything. And initially he doesn’t, he sits there next to you in silence looking up at the same sky you’d stare at endlessly as a child. 

“Ca’tra.”

You turn to look at him, the word foreign to your ears. For the most part, you knew the phrases of his native Mando’a he’d speak around you. Nau, for example, was what he called you, a nickname of sorts. He’s told you it means light, a nod to the way you two initially met during a blackout on a ship you’d been working on, a flashlight in hand as you bumped in face first to his chest. But ca’tra you didn’t know, so you waited for him to continue. 

“It means ‘night sky’,” he explains, and you make a mental note to add that to the list of Mando’a words you have written on your data pad. “I often gazed up at the night sky back in Kamino growing up. It brought me calm whenever I’d feel...uneasy.”

“Ca’tra.” You test the word in your mouth, hoping you pronounced it correctly. At his smile and nod, your heart blooms with pride. 

“And though we have no word for shooting star, we do have ka’ra, which means stars.” 

Another word to add to the list, you think. 

Your eyes go back to the sky, and almost as if on queue, you see the flash of light that filled you with hope as a child. 

“Look! A shooting star! Make a wish,” you say, closing your eyes to mentally make your own. You wish for progress in the war with as little casualties as possible, you wish for his safety. A whisper of a thought adds another part to the wish: I wish for Rex to stay by my side. 

You open your eyes slowly, glancing over at Rex to see if he’s done with his wish. Only, you don’t find him with his eyes closed as you’d had them. He’s not even looking up at the sky. No, he’s looking at you. 

For a split second, you forget how to breathe at the sight of his beautiful eyes on you. Taking a small breath, you speak. 

“Did you make a wish?” You don’t intend for your voice to be a whisper, but with the way he’s looking at you, you don’t manage anything else. 

Rex nods. “Yes, I did.”

You want to ask what it is, but know that the way wishes come true is by keeping them to yourself. 

“Well,” you say, your hand seemingly moving on its own will as it lands on top of his. “I hope your wish comes true.”

“I hope so too,” he responds. 

You turn back to look at the sky, your hand still on Rex’s. And maybe it’s the glass of Elzian wine you drank, or the fact that you’re looking up at the night sky you spent your whole childhood wishing under, or even the drunken state Rex causes you to be in regardless of the amount of alcohol in your system, but you think you know what Rex wished for. Well, you hope you know what he wished for. 

As if to put your mind at ease and to confirm your thoughts all at once, Rex moves his hand so that he’s now holding yours. The cool feeling of the durasteel you both are sitting on makes for a sharp contrast to just how warm his hand feels on your own. Before you have time to process his actions, he hits you with another jolt of electricity when he softly squeezes your hand.  

You don’t have to look at him to know he’s smiling, because you’re smiling too. You’re smiling the smile that only appears whenever Rex is with you, by your side, safe. 

And as the two of you sit under the night sky, you don’t feel the guilt you’d expected to feel at the last addition to your wish. It’s a bit selfish, you admit, wishing for something exclusively for you. But you don’t, can’t feel guilt when all you feel is warm, kind love with Rex by your side. 

When the next shooting star paints the sky, you once again wish for Rex to stay by your side, nothing more, nothing less.

[joopiterjoon]

Adored and Nothing More

Pairing: YoonJin Queerplatonic

Genre: PG, Slice of Life, Fluff?

Warnings/Tags: Aro!Jin, Ace-Spectrum!Yoongi, handholding, YoonJin complaining, self-discovery

Wordcount: 3k

A/n: I wrote this based on a joke with @kpopfan-antics... and then turned it into a fic.. and made it soft because what else is new.

Part of FicsWithLuv’s FWLBingo!

“Coffee?” Yoongi’s voice draws Jin out of his intense focus on the game that’s been in his hands so long they’re cramping. Jin blinks a few times before he fully registers the small man in his doorway. He leans on Jin’s doorframe, hair a mess and hoodie on despite the summer heat. It’s a typical contrast to be seen in the apartment- Jin in his boxers and a sweatshirt while Yoongi’s bundled up head-to-toe.

The most recent apartment suits them well. In college, the soft pastels of Jin’s side seemed comedic compared to Yoongi’s all-black-or-bust space. Now, Jin’s room faces the sun, while Yoongi’s faces the adjacent apartment building. Jin can look out into the day, and Yoongi’s room is kept cool by the lack of light.

Jin gives a small smile to his roommate before heaving out of the bed for the first time all day. He groans as he stretches.

“Old man,” Yoongi teases.

“Hey, that’s rich coming from you,” Jin argues as he shucks his hoodie and pulls a shirt over his head. “An old man would wish he looked this good.”

“Well, “ Yoongi begins despite walking into the living space towards the door, “You must be that good looking old man ‘cause only old guys groan like that when they stand.”

Jin frows as he trots after Yoongi’s huddled, waddling form.

“Like this?” Jin imitates the sound again while he bends to put his shoes on. “Or this?” He does it louder with his whole chest as they head out. “Or like-”

Jin stops abruptly when he sees their neighbors in the hall, startled by Jin’s noises. His ears burn as he bows deeply. “Sorry.”

Yoongi snickers, tugging Jin along with a loose grip on his hand. Jin’s amazed that in all his layers, Yoongi’s fingers are actually cold. He grips tighter to warm them.

“Hey,” Jin pipes up as they get on the street. “An old man would never shout like that either, you know?”

Yoongi side-eyes him and pulls a baseball cap lower over his eyes. He got a haircut last week, and the hat shows off his undercut well. But Jin knows how chaotic his hair is underneath. Still, somehow Yoongi looks cute with his hair fucked up and askew. “Mhm, sure.”

Satisfied, Jin bounces along next to his roommate. It’s a nice day out, Yoongi’s favorite kind. Good weather and few people. They stay quiet, taking note of the small changes in their neighborhood since the last time they left the house. Both introverts, Jin and Yoongi make a dangerously homebound pairing. If it weren’t for Yoongi’s dire need for specialty coffee, they would barely leave the house in the summer.

They head toward the small coffee shop that Yoongi chose as “his” coffee shop. Yoongi had a tendency to do that. He picked something he liked and stuck with it. Like Jin, his eternal roommate. And seeing as Jin and Yoongi had similar preferences in activities and lifestyles, Jin became what Yoongi stuck with very often. Jin would tease him, but really, he appreciated it. He’s comfortable with Yoongi. Content. He frequently finds it hard to balance his affection and sincerity with friends, yet Yoongi has always seemed to understand how Jin works.

“Woah,” Jin says as they enter the shop. It’s almost empty. He checks the large, driftwood clock hanging in the back of the small space. “Yoongi, it’s 3 pm.”

“Correct,” Yoongi answers curtly. They shuffle between the little square tables for two and up to the front.

“Yoongi, I’ve been in bed until 3 pm?”

“Correct.”

“Why didn’t you get me sooner? I haven’t eaten all day!” Jin whines. He throws his arms up in distress and nearly knocks over the little, inconveniently empty case of muffins on the counter.

“I’m not your keeper, old man,” Yoongi retorts and smiles politely to their barista.

“Just for that comment, you have to come and get naengmyeon with me after this,” Jin sniffs. 

“Awh,” she giggles behind the counter. “You two are always cute together.”

“Oh,” Jin and Yoongi both say. They give each other an up-down, then focus on their conjoined hands. It’s not the first time they’ve been mislabeled. It’s happened so often that they know exactly what the cashier means by “cute together.”

“Oh,” the cashier repeats, covering her embarrassment. “Are you not dating?”

Both of them open their mouths to respond, but neither say anything. They just stare, blank-faced and slack-jawed, at the barista. There’s not usually a pause here. One of them is quick to correct. The pause gives way to another pause as they both consider the weight of the first.

“I don’t think so,” Jin finally says.

“No,” Yoongi says more firmly yet still too late.

“No?” Jin’s a bit offended at how assured Yoongi sounded.

“Did you think we were?” Yoongi curls his lip in frustration. “You just said you don’t think so.”

“Yeah,” Jin agrees, his ears tinting pink. Sure, he doesn’t. But…

Are we dating? It’s a question that’s made Jin nervous his whole life. He always gets close, closer, closest to people. He feels happy, content to have someone close who knows him and values his presence. But, then, there’s always that “next step” others ask for. Something he never recognizes is there until after he confronts these kinds of situations. Situations like romance. Where someone wants him in a way that implies so much more than what he wants. The awkward moments when someone leans in for a kiss and Jin has to say explain there’s been a miscommunication. 

He never thinks they’re dating. He doesn’t feel a need to date, or what people mean by date. He just likes to be close to people he cares for. Jin’s thought about it many times. Why what he wants exudes wanting more to others when he likes what they have.

He thought Yoongi felt the same. Years and years of closeness.Someone who felt good to cuddle when they watched a movie. Someone who he could always talk to. Someone who never made him worried he might want more, that something people want that Jin just doesn’t. And now... “I thought you might think that we might be what we aren’t.”

“Yeah, I get that.”

“So you do?”

Yoongi’s lip curls in confusion. “No?”

Yoongi blinks a few times, pout prominent as he becomes confused. “No what?”

They both let out a frustrated sigh. At this point, the barista slinks away to make their drinks, the slightest bit guilty for whatever she just caused. Jin turns to face Yoongi. Yoongi’s slouched against the counter, nonchalant, but his eyes dart between Jin’s trying to read him. Jin asks again, “Are we dating?”

“I don’t know,” Yoongi says, rubbing at his other arm since he can’t cross them as long as they are holding hands. He finally looks away, and Jin’s heart jumps a bit at the nerves he’s showing. “You tell me.”

“I think…” Jin startles a bit at the sound of the latte machine. He hopes for a reprieve, the noise too loud for them to keep talking, but he doesn’t get that. The quartet of grinding beans and pressurized air quickly ends. Maybe it’s a sign to keep going. He really doesn’t want to do this in a coffee shop, but… “I think sometimes we are.”

Yoongi sighs again, but he doesn’t look back up, just waves Jin off. “Well, tell me when sometimes turns to a definitive.” 

“Nah,” Jin says, shaking his head, “I like how things are. Can we just keep doing this?”

“Alright then,” Yoongi nods. He drags them down to the open side of the counter as the barista cups their drinks. “Still want to go to dinner?”

“As a non-date date?” Jin asks, perking up. Whatever doing this is. That is a date usually, but it’s not a date for them.

“Jesus,” Yoongi crinkles his nose. “If that’s a date, we’ve been dating for years.”

“Maybe we have,” Jin says, blinking a few times. Maybe he’s right. If this is what they want to call it, it’s been a while. An apologetic barista slides two coffees across the counter as the two stand in silence for a moment. “That would be ideal. But I thought we weren’t-”

“Do not start this again,” Yoongi cuts him off and turns to find a table.

Jin doesn’t. He sits with Yoongi while he drinks his coffee. They check the weather to search for a time to go camping. They’ve tried to plan a trip three times this summer. Jin loves camping with Yoongi.

Late at night when they wait for the coals to cool in the fire, Yoongi talks the most. He talks about the world more when he’s not really in it. Being deep in the woods can feel like being in a different world. Jin likes taking Yoongi camping to help him gain perspective and for them to be out but with no one around. And on those trips, Jin’s thought about it. How if he had to be stuck with one person forever, it would be Yoongi. 

They toss their drinks and head back out. It’s quiet again as Jin follows the GPS on his phone. He tries to focus, but now there’s an idea in the back of his head. Is it this easy? Is this… okay? Is Yoongi going to want more? He’s never wanted more all this time. Jin’s sure he doesn’t want more.

Finally, after they get to the restaurant and order their food, Jin can’t take it anymore. He talks to Yoongi about anything and everything directly. He can talk about this. They are eternal roommates. It’ll be fine. They already addressed it before. Just not as much as he wanted.

Still, he can’t find an in, a moment to clear the air. So he gives up distracting himself, which seems to be what Yoongi’s doing because he won’t put his phone down.

“Why are you on your phone?” Jin asks.

“Googling us,” Yoongi says. He misses his straw a few times while he keeps reading.

Jin blushes. “Look, if anything strange comes up about a GoFundMe from 2012-”

“That’s not what I mean,” Yoongi says, crunching on an ice cube. “It’s called Queerplatonic.”

“That wasn’t the name of my GoFundMe but it’s kind of close.”

“I don’t want to know,” Yoongi says. “This. The thing we do. Are doing. Think we might… nevermind.”

Yoongi huffs out his frustration and flips his phone over on the table. Jin leans over the rickety bar table toward his pouty roommate. At this point, Jin had half a mind that what happened before was a joke for the barista. Now he finds out Yoongi’s been pondering the same thing in his head all afternoon. “Yoongi, you do want to date me, don’t you?”

Yoongi grumbles incoherently as he scratches at his ear. Jin leans back in his seat with a sigh. Ah. “I’m telling you, it’s fine. Everyone wants to date me. And apparently everyone thinks I want to date them. You are not immune.”

Yoongi’s head pops up, irritated as usual by Jin’s ego, and reminds him, “Earlier you literally said you’d be fine dating me.”

“I’m fine non-dating dating you,” Jin says.

“Queerplatonic,” Yoongi clarifies, waving the phone.

“Give me that,” Jin takes the phone from Yoongi. It’s some stylized Wiki page. He glances up at Yoongi, ears a bit pink. “You’re sitting here deciphering us without including me?”

“You’d talk so much I wouldn’t be able to read,” Yoongi shrugs. “Plus, I’ve seen you staring at my nonstop. I know you are thinking about the same shit over there.”

“You say that like you don’t talk all the time,” Jin pauses to nod in thanks to the waiter who sets their beers on the table. Jin drinks a bit more than he should off the bat. “You even talk in your sleep!”

Yoongi petulantly purses his lips. “If you aren’t going to read, give me my phone back.”

Jin leans back with the phone close to his chest and reads through the article. As he goes, he feels tension in his shoulders unwinding. 

What he’s reading in his hands, this is him. Moreover, it’s what he and Yoongi have. And some people, apparently, are okay staying this way.

“Yoongi,” Jin breathes, scrolling further. Yoongi doesn’t answer, he just keeps eating and watching Jin’s face nervously. “Is this… I think I’m this.”

“What is this? There’s like, 20 definitions on that site,” Yoongi gripes.

“I don’t know… something on this?” Jin says, scrolling again.

When he hears Yoongi put his beer down, he glances up. Yoongi’s hand is out on the table, palm up, inviting. Jin takes it hesitantly. He’s always liked holding Yoongi’s hand. There’s nothing implied. Nothing extra expected. Just touching someone. He takes it.

“Are you telling me you’ve never considered your sexuality?” Yoongi asks, wiping his mouth. Jin glances around at the other tables chattering and laughing over assortments of comfort food. No one’s really paying them much mind.

“Um, I mean, I guess I thought this wasn’t a sexuality? More of a libido thing. Not for me. I still like sex and stuff, but maybe every other month?” Jin trails off. Honestly, it’s something he’s tried to ignore thinking about.

“Well, I don’t really,” Yoongi says bluntly. 

“Why didn’t you say something?” Jin asks.

“I did,” Yoongi tries to sound nonchalant, but he hides behind his beer.

“When?” Jin asks, exasperated.

“Do you remember when we were watching that Avengers movie that made no sense?”

“Yoongi, for the millionth time, you can’t just choose to watch Civil War without watching any of the other--”

“That’s not the point,” Yoongi groans over Jin until he stops talking. “We were sitting there. Just chilling. And I said I liked this. And you said you, too. And then you held my hand, and I... leaned my head on your shoulder and shit.”

“That was…” Jin rubs his chin. “That was a confession?”

“I mean,” Yoongi shrugs, but he looks a bit annoyed.

“Oh.”

“I was pretty sure you were aromantic,” Yoongi continues, “or at least something of the sort. I mean, didn’t you google it?”

“I don’t google this stuff, I just deal with it,” Jin scoffs, but he feels his ears burning. He glances at Yoongi’s phone again. Aromanticism (or aromanticity) is an orientation in which someone does not experience romantic attraction. Aromanticism is often confused for asexuality, but asexuality is only a lack of sexual attraction. Not all asexuals are aromantic, nor are all aromantics asexual**. That.

He reads it aloud. “I think that’s me. Like, maybe both. But not all the time? But most of the time.”

“Okay, well, that’s cool,” Yoongi says. Simple. The simpleness of it all almost makes Jin urge to create something more. Not exactly drama. But now he’s finally talking about it, he wants to know a bit more. Especially now that he knows he and Yoongi have been on different pages about who they were to each other for almost a year. And he’s a bit overwhelmed with the fact that what Yoongi wants is to just stay how they are. It’s a bit too surreal to be reality.

Jin chews on his lip. “Do you like me?”

“I don’t like anyone,” Yoongi clarifies. He fumbles with his words a bit, frowning while he gets his thoughts together. He settles with, “But you’re okay.”

“No, I mean,” Jin takes a deep breath in. He laughs nervously. “Isn’t it scary? It feels like… I’m broken. Like I’m supposed to like you more than I do or in some, I don’t know, some other way I can’t fathom?” Jin chuckles nervously. He inhales the salty air mixed with the familiar smell of burning grease. “I didn’t expect to admit something is wrong with me and my dick at a dive restaurant.”

“Nothing is fuckin’ wrong with you,” Yoongi squeezes his hand. Jin glances away at the small compliment, which sounded more like a command. It makes him flustered. “First of all, I’m disappointed you are falling into the ploy of a nuclear family or some shit. The idea of some kind of ideal romantic relationship is commercialized and definitely benefits the economy. The entire dating culture. Don’t even get me started on gifts.”

“I already know how you feel about gifts,” Jin cuts in.

“Exactly, you know me, and I like to think I know you,” Yoongi says, his voice getting quiet at the end. Jin glances up to see something rare. Dusted pink chubby cheeks. He wants to pinch them, fidgeting in his seat.

“Jin, I like being with you, if that’s what you mean,” Yoongi sighs. “I like that we can just be us. I like doing things with you. I don’t want to put a label on it, just like I don’t want to put a label on myself. But the whole romantic thing? Not me. What we have? That fits me. I want to keep doing that. Do you want to keep doing that?”

Jin nods immediately. Yes, yes he does. He loves doing things with Yoongi. “But aren’t we supposed to do more? Get somewhere with it? I don’t know, profess our love?”

Yoongi drops back in his chair with a groan. “Jin, we aren’t supposed to anything. We can do what we want. Tell me what you want. You be you. I’ll be me. We always speak our minds, right? We just be ourselves. Talk to each other. Be, uh, together.”

Yoongi’s words start to drown into the sound of the restaurant, his palm sweaty in Jin’s. Jin smiles softly. He’s nervous. Cute. “Wow, I’m the worst. Here you are having to guide me through all this.”

“You are the worst,” Yoongi agrees. “I can deal with that, though.”

“Okay,” Jin says. He inhales and lets out a shaky breath. “Yeah, um. This is what I want. What I like. What we’re, you know, doing. Coffee and eating and living.”

Yoongi nods. “Alright. That wasn’t so bad. Now let’s eat and go stargazing or some other shit. The weather’s too nice to go home yet.”

Jin smiles softly. The food comes to the table and they both separate, picking up their chopsticks, and dig in. It’s easy. Comfortable. Content.

**This information came from this website [the website will be here in a bit. Tumblr is flagging posts with links so i’m waiting a bit before inserting it]

© July 2020 JoopiterJoon. Protected by Creative Commons. If you repost my work in any form or say “credit to author” I will find you and ruin you :D

Characters only borrow name and likeness from the members. Do not copy, translate, repost, or reuse this work.

[feuilly-cakes]

New Moon - Review - 3*

The problem with first-person narration is that when the main character is in distress you can't have fun reading the book, because everything is coloured with that viewpoint. As a result, I was more annoyed by this than I needed to be, because of the way Bella changed and also Edward's actions. It did, however, do some cool things too, in the way of important messages and descriptions of poor mental health, and also what it's like to begin to recover from that. So this was less enjoyable than Twilight, but not less important to read. Spoilers beyond this point Bella starts off on a high note, with a new-ish job at the Newton's shop and a close relationship with Edward and Alice, who are both friendly or even besties with Charlie in Alice's case. She's living the dream, and then the birthday party happens, and it all goes downhill. Edward is acting strange and indifferent to Bella, Bella is freaking out about that because she's a smart cookie and thinks he's going to ask her to leave with him, and then suddenly she's dumped, depressed, and hallucinating Edward's voice. It's not a great time for Bella. This whole experience makes her change from a strong, funny, normal girl to a selfish, hypocritical girl with zero self esteem or self preservation. As character growth goes it's not nice but it is realistic and it needed to be that way to further the plot. Let me be clear: she is still all the Bella things of the first book, but it's hidden away behind the depression and desperation and the way she can't think rationally anymore. I want to talk about Edward now, because I now think he's trash and am firmly on #teamjacob for the first time in my life. Edward is so pitiful here that he literally dumps her on the trail to some woods like a moron and then runs away and never expects her to, I don't know, follow him? He didn't think she would be too hurt by him rejecting her either because "how could you let one word break your faith in me?" I don't know Edward, perhaps because it was you that said those words? Also that's very 'let's blame Bella for my actions' of you... but I digress. After he's back he even tells Bella he "was coming back anyway" and "it was only a matter of time." Sir, if you're going to abruptly dump your girlfriend of 6 months and not so much as check in on her, then at least have the willpower to stick to that, because if this were a normal story you'd have gotten punched in the face the minute you showed up. The only saving grace for his character in this book is when Bella uses logic on him to get him to see he has hope for his own soul after all, and he begins to really come around to changing her, so there may be hope for him after all. The Werewolves I'm not going to talk about Jacob much because nothing massive stood out to me, just know that I love him and he should've been with Bella. The way he let her know he was into her and then remained her friend without pushing unless she did something was lovely, and I truly believe that if Edward hadn't been come back it would've been a perfect sequel. I am already expecting that to change in Eclipse because of the thing that he's going to do. Anyway, I also love the pack and wish we got more time with them. They call each other "brothers" and I just wanted some found family goodness and got nothing. I also wish we had gotten more interactions between Bella and Emily, because Bella starts calling herself a "wolf girl" and hanging out with Emily but we don't see that and it's so frustrating. I need a whole book dedicated to what exactly she was doing when she was spending all of her time at La Push. The Vampires. The Volturi are finally named in the scene where Romeo and Juliet is used to foreshadow the whole book. They are also used to foreshadow the rest of the book. Later we discover that they are a family of 5, with 9 main guard members plus an unknown number that changes. This is the information I always wanted to know but never did. Aro has "clouded, milky" red eyes, and "papery" skin. It isn't clear if this is from age or something else, but it kind of creeped me out I'm not going to lie. He also goes on a little tangent about how it "pleases" him that Carlisle was successful in being a vegetarian. This could have been a lie, but remember that Edward is a mind reader and would have given some indication. I actually like him in this book, he's very friendly and as soon as he gets confirmation Bella will be changed he's content to leave them be, though is a bit wistful that they won't join him. Caius is the one who tells them they have a time limit. Onto the big differences from the film -The Romeo and Juliet scene takes place in Bella's living room instead of the English classroom. As does the second half of the Volturi explanation scene, the first half of which took place in the first book. -Bella knows something is going to happen with Edward before he takes her on the walk. -The motorbike scene in Port Angeles isn't a motorbike scene, it's a walking towards dangerous men then leaving scene. -Bella and Jacob go hiking together to find the meadow, and Bella finds it on her own after all that hiking practice. -The werewolf reveal scene where Bella smacks Paul doesn't happen. Bella and Jacob deliberately meet them somewhere, Bella doesn't smack anyone, and Paul loses it anyway. -Jacob gets a grounded Bella in further trouble by showing Charlie the motorbikes they rose together many times, not just once. Parts I actually liked, because it wasn't all bad. -Bella stands up to Edward about her truck stereo in the beginning. It was a good moment. -Bella says that the birthday incident wasn't Jasper's fault at all. -A funny moment: (when Sam Uley introduces himself less than a year after she met him on First Beach:) "There was nothing familiar about his name." (And yes, I checked and she definitely met him, age 19, never learned how to read...) - Chapter 6: Friends. The whole page where Jacob and Bella are giggling and tripping over themselves and each other had me beaming. Such a happy section. -"I wanted to be fierce and deadly. Someone no one would dare mess with. Someone who would scare Sam Uley silly. I wanted to be a vampire." -There's a part during the voting scene where Edward grabs Bella by the face and she's talking to Carlisle and hoping he will understand because it was hard to talk properly the way Edward was holding her face. The mental image I got... he was squeezing her cheeks to the point she was doing fish lips and it nearly had me in tears. -Also with the voting scene, Rosalie votes against Bella, but she has no aversion to being her sister, only a vampire. Bella then tells everyone she feels the same about them as they do as her, which hurts Rosalie, and Bella realises that could be taken the wrong way. She didn't mean it in a bad way and the fact that Rosalie got hurt shows how their relationship is already developing from the first book. I found this part interesting and lovely to see, as I used to see it as a very abrupt friendship in book 4. There was no outright offensive language in this book, however there were several instances of questionable and uncomfortable behaviour, so I'll be listing them below. -When telling her about the birthday arrangements Edward and Alice don't listen to her protests, and pretty much force her into going to a party she doesn't want. It's creepily reminiscent of the prom incident, only with much worse results. -The Port Angeles post-cinema scene. Bella endangers her own and Jessica's life just to hear a hallucination of Edward. She then decided they were "probably nice guys. Safe." and just walked away, after realising they weren't the same men who wanted to r*pe her in book 1. She then thinks that Jessica is upset because she "must have really offended her" and not because she risked her life and well-being on a whim. The whole mindset Bella is in here is obviously not a healthy one, and I think we as readers are supposed to understand that and empathise with Jessica, but I can't be sure, and either way it's really bad and reckless behaviour. -Bella describes Leah as "exotic" which is not only weird but incorrect. Leah is native american and therefore the opposite of exotic. Leah isn't an animal, she isn't unusual or from far away, she's a person living in the place she was born, and it's beyond weird to call a person 'exotic'. -Jacob is back at it with the weird hatred of his own tribe. Pre-werewolf anyway. Before I get into it, I'd like to remind you that Jacob is not a real Native American because he was written by a WHITE woman, and therefore anything he says is a reflection of Stephenie Meyer and not of an actual Native American person. Now that's out of the way, Jacob is telling Bella about Sam Uley's behaviour, and while doing so he says this: "They're all about our land, and tribe pride... it's getting ridiculous." In the context of the book only, he's talking about how Sam's pack (though he doesn't know it's a pack yet) have become "protectors" and he thinks it's weird. In the context of who the author is, however, it's a bit more complicated. This line makes it seems like Stephenie Meyer may believe having lots of pride in your tribe as a native american person is ridiculous, and it skirts a dangerous territory. Remember she is a white woman and who clearly hasn't done research into why native american people are protective of what little land they have left and what culture hasn't been taken from them through genocide. This is your reminder to seek out native american voices, and especially Quileute voices in this circumstance, and learn their opinions and views on these matters. -Quileute is described as "an unfamiliar, liquid language." I couldn't find any video or audio of this language except the alphabet, and so I very much doubt Stephenie Meyer found something 14 years ago. It's my opinion that just like with the legends, she made this up and slapped the Quileute name on it for exploitative reasons. From what research I've done no young person would've known the language fluently anyway because it was dying before 2000 and is barely being kept alive. It wasn't hard to find this out, and as someone who was set to make millions off this book she should have done her research. -Bella's attitude regarding Gianna. She's horrified by her desire to become one of the Volturi, to be surrounded by vampires, and it doesn't seem to click that Bella herself has that same desire with the Cullens. She looks down on Gianna just because the vampires she desires are human drinkers and not animal drinkers, and it's clear she doesn't think of them as the same. All of the Cullens have killed humans or drank from them, so Bella is extremely hypocritical here. -"I mean, 'Fine, I'll move out.'" Bella holds this ultimatum over Charlie's head when he doesn't want her seeing Edward. She's being selfish and childish here, not caring that he's trying to look after her. When Edward left she was ruined, and Charlie is trying to stop that from happening again. Her actions in this scene are horrible and show how little she cares for Charlie, the man who looked after her while she was broken, who is her father. This is where we truly see how selfish Bella has become over the course of the book, or perhaps since being in a relationship with Edward, as in Twilight she would have never said this to Charlie. She may be an adult but she is sure acting like a child. -Finally, the vote. After it takes place, Bella demands Alice turn her immediately, and refuses to listen to reason when Alice tells her she can't just do it right away. She then turns to Carlisle, putting him right on the spot, and demands the same. He agrees but it's not right or proper behaviour, but unfortunately it's behaviour we come to expect from Bella by the end of the book. The switch from vote to demanding she be changed was jarring, and it really rubbed me the wrong way.

[getalittleclosey]

under 25k larry fic rec

hi! i’m becca and i read...so much fic. these rec lists are an accumulation of fic that i’ve read or reread and extra loved from 2016-now. there’s a wide range of stuff here and i think there’s definitely something for everyone!! i divided them up by length so you can check out all those categories below!

please make sure to read tags and warnings on all these fics!! the only things i think i can guarantee is that these are all larry, there’s no non-con, no age play, no eating disorders, no mentions of bg, they end happy, and they’re mostly aus. oh and they’re all on ao3 and some are locked so you’ll need an account! anyway i hope y’all enjoy!!!

under 5k

under 10k

under 50k

under 100k

100k+

☆ watching the world fall by whoknows 12k

This segment has been going on long enough that Louis knows what’s coming before James starts in on it, trying to sell him on something he knows that Louis wouldn’t normally be buying. But there’s four cameras surrounding him, and an audience watching him expectantly, so if Louis wants to continue convincing people that he’s doing just fine, he’s going to have to go along with it.

“We have a whole host of single men backstage waiting to meet you, Louis,” James tells him. “We want to help you find love tonight, on Late Late Live Tinder. Is this okay? Do you want to play?”

It actually kind of makes sense that his first date after the break-up is going to be just as public as said break-up. Something like coming full circle.

“Alright, James,” Louis agrees, hopping down off his stool.

“Okay, come down to the stage,” James says. Louis can’t even tell whether the excitement in his voice is genuine or not. “Right now, come on down!”

☆ enjoy the ride by 2tiedships2 11k

“Stop sulking and get up. I have a proposition to make.”

“Niall?” Louis questioned. “Do you think I should put glow in the dark stars on my ceiling?”

He looked over and found Niall giving him an unimpressed look.

“So, no?” Louis asked. “No stars?”

“We’re going on a road trip,” Niall stated.

Louis looked back at his starless ceiling and waved farewell to Niall. “Cool. Have fun!”

“No, you idiot.” Niall let out a frustrated sigh. “You, me, Liam, and Harry.”

Louis glanced over to Niall and back to the ceiling. “Who’s Harry?”

Or the one where Louis, an omega more than tired of being treated as lesser than alphas, is forced on a road trip by his beta besties only to meet Harry who might just be the alpha he never knew he wanted.

☆ like to keep you laughing by kikikryslee 13k

Louis gasped. “Are you straight? Oh, I'm sorry, man. You should’ve just told me; I would’ve left you alone.” “No, no, that’s not it," Harry said. "I like guys. I definitely like guys.” “OK…” “Louis, I’m ace.” Louis snorted. “Kind of full of yourself, aren’t you?” --- Or, the one where Louis is a frat boy who likes to hook up and Harry is someone who doesn't hook up ever.

note: ace and aro rep bless

☆ say that you can see me (i’ll speak up i swear) by coffeelouis (streamtpwk) 20k

“Well, it’s not like anyone really RSVPs,” Liam defends when Harry turns back to him, “No one takes Facebook events seriously.” Harry rolls his eyes, still finding it within himself to get annoyed in his moment of panic. Liam has been complaining about the lack of accountability Facebook events have bred in their generation since their freshman year. Harry glances back to the gallery entrance. Yep, still there and moving closer.

“But aren’t you guys friends?” Harry asks, trying to convey the urgency in his tone.

“Well, I mean, I talk to him when he stops by the office for supplies sometimes,” Liam reasons, “But I wouldn’t say we’re friends, exactly. Maybe more like, friendly acquaintances?”

Harry groans. “You’re the fucking worst.”

[or, the liberal arts COLLEGE AU where Harry knows Louis as the best friend of the boy he has been hopelessly in love with for years now and Louis knows Harry as the boy he wished would look away from Zayn long enough to notice him.]

☆ a fire in us by hereforlou 12k

Louis had always thought it wouldn’t catch him off-guard. If he ever got his Time, he would be ready, and he would be calm, and he would make his way to wherever his soulmate waited for him and blow them away with how ready and calm he was.

When he got his Time on that Monday, years after he had stopped fantasizing about meeting his soulmate, Louis was not ready, and he was not calm. What he was was late.

(Or, the one where Harry waits and Louis worries.)

☆ just like the wolf before he bites by whoknows 11k

He’s loud, Louis is, and that’s far from unusual for him, but the volume of it still has Harry pulling back the curtain. There’s a half-formed thought in the back of his brain about telling Louis off, because it’s fucking half three in the morning, but then.

But then Harry’s eyes get stuck on the soft glint of Louis’ stubble in the light, and he’s making his way across the room before he even realizes it.

Louis, for his part, just tips his chin up to give Harry space and keeps talking, waving the joint in his hand around for emphasis. He doesn’t even bother to greet Harry, going on with his story to his semi-rapt audience, just settles a hand in between Harry’s shoulder blades and pushes him down firmly.

Harry just. Relaxes. His eyes slip closed, pushing his entire face into that spot underneath Louis’ chin, where his hair is still growing, neat and prickly. The scent of Louis’ cologne drifts into Harry’s nose, light and fresh, and it’s calming. Comforting. His breathing syncs up with Louis’ quickly, and Harry feels so much better than he had five minutes ago he almost wants to cry.

note: i’m rewatching teen wolf so this hits different

☆ wine not? by multiple authors 21k

Louis’ Wine Dive is a bar run by the people for the people. Wine Styles is a boutique tasting room that caters to a more highbrow clientele. When their worlds clash on a beautiful Charleston street, one of these owners may find that an ounce of pretension doesn’t stand a chance against a pound of perseverance.

☆ ain’t that a kick in the head by multiple authors 22k

“Well.” Niall unlocks his phone. “It wasn’t getting the traction I wanted on Snapchat. So…I tweeted it.”

What.

“You tweeted it,” Harry states, nearing a state of brain dead. “To your ten thousand followers.”

Niall nods, handing Harry the phone. “You’re a meme, Harry.”

“I’m a what?”

“A meme. It’s like an internet—”

“I know what a fucking meme is, Niall! Why did you make me into one?”

Niall has the fucking balls to cackle at that while Harry looks at the mess his former friend created. Videos of him screaming at Tomlinson about Tide Pods and his ass are being quoted and combined with memes to a create a level of memeception Harry has never seen before. That isn’t even including the thousands of tweets of him falling up the stairs remixed with random Top 40 songs.

~

In which Harry’s a disaster gay who doesn’t know shit about soccer, Liam drinks too many blue raspberry Coolattas, Niall knows everyone, Zayn looks dead, and Louis is Not Happy about sharing his breakout moment with “Drunk Hawaiian Guy.”

☆ tyger! tyger! burning bright by ryanreynolds 12k

They put on the Great British Bake Off, in a house in Donny, in England, that’s maybe inhabited by two ghosts, two lovers, stuck in the house where they used to have a life, so far away from the time they were born in. // A Buzzfeed Unsolved AU in which Harry and Louis died in a fire in the late 1800's, but death isn't the end.

☆ for the first time by mixedfandomfics 22k

The first Harry that Louis met was at his third school in as many years, and had shoved Louis’ head into the toilet when he walked into the mens restroom. Some slurs had been used, but the whole incident was kind of blurry thanks to the concussion he got when his head hit the tile floor.

The second Harry was a TSA agent when Louis was sixteen, returning from a trip abroad. The agent had smirked at Louis passport. “Layla, huh? Should think about dressing a little more feminine, no guy is gonna want you looking like that.”

Louis doesn’t want to see if “third time’s the charm” applies here. He’s finally secure in his life and happy, and he doesn’t want the heartbreak if his soulmate is just another bigot that wanted Layla and not Louis. Sue him for avoiding the pain.

☆ all i need is oxygen (and you) by lululawrence 12k

There are only two ways to navigate Bloomfield High School: become popular or make yourself invisible.

With the help of his best mate Niall, Harry’s introduction to high school hadn’t been half bad. Despite being a “bandie” – the lowest of the low in the ancient hierarchy of high school –Harry had somehow managed to survive freshman year relatively unscathed. So naturally, Harry would have been perfectly happy to resume his position of invisible trombone player number four for the remainder of high school. But one day something drastic happened, something that would change the course of Harry’s entire existence (probably).

It was the last football game of his freshman year, and the band was back in the stands after performing a rousing rendition of Bloomfield’s alma mater during half time. Harry was gracelessly wiping the slobber from the mouthpiece of his trombone when he saw him.

Louis Tomlinson.

Or...a High School AU where Harry is a bandie and Louis is the epitome of cool, so naturally, Harry must find a way to get his attention and win his affections.

☆ come together by bottomlinsons 11k

Harry and Louis slept together three weeks ago, and haven't talked.

Their coming group project is gonna change that.

☆ honey at seven by louiesunshine 11k

He’s in head to toe in khaki, from the oversized shorts showing off his thin and tanned legs to the buttoned-up shirt which is hiding his true form underneath. If his muscular arms have any indication, Louis easily assumes he’s fit and toned. A dark brown leather belt ties around his slim waist. And to top it all off, the man proudly wore a safari hat on his dark wavy hair.

Unfortunately from where Louis is at, he can’t get a clear view of the man’s eyes. But he’s able to see a strong jawline and a simple dimple curving his cheek. God.

Being the impatient guy that he is, he not so kindly pushes both Niall and Liam forward to speed them up.

“Welcome, guys, gals, and non-binary pals! Hop on in and watch your head. If you happen to miss your step and hit your head, then lower your voice and watch your language. This is a family attraction and we’d like to keep it that way.”

Or, where Louis goes to Disneyland for his birthday and finds himself a cute Jungle Cruise skipper.

☆ the switch (love is blind) by writeroffictions 13k

A Model Behavior/Princess Switch AU: Harry Styles is a doppelganger for the new face of Gucci, runway model, Dean Rose. Harry is asked to pose as him one night for an event, because the actual Dean Rose is violently ill. This leads Harry to meeting his celeb crush, Global Superstar Louis Tomlinson. Sparks fly. But are any of them real?

☆ fiction romance by orphan_account 18k

Harry has a type.

He likes older, sophisticated, mature men. Well-educated men. Men with life experience and passion for arts and social causes. Men who are established in their careers, who've sorted their lives out.

Niall knows this.

And so Harry can't understand why he's sat here opposite Louis Tomlinson.

A punk Louis/uni Harry blind date AU.

☆ under me, you by hazzafrazza (colberry) 12k

You Won’t Believe Who Was Spotted Leaving Harry Styles’ Primrose Hill Pad! If Harry was being completely honest, it probably wasn’t the best idea to be a world-renowned popstar and an infamous vigilante.

(Especially when all the comic books said never reveal your secret identity to keep your loved ones safe – which was all well and good, until Louis.)

Or: Harry wants a lot of things – fame, glory, Louis – but that last one is particularly hard to get when everyone thinks you’re dating your secret superhero alter-ego and suddenly you’ve become your own worst cockblock.

☆ superhuman tonight by rearviewdreamer 23k

A group of young offenders doing community service get struck by lightning during a storm, and begin to develop superpowers.

☆ sing you butterflies by objectlesson 23k

Louis stares for a moment before some primal sympathetic force in him activates. He has to help this boy. He can hardly walk, and he seems so young (yet ageless, beyond age, like a sea turtle or a parrot or a tree or something else odd and magical), and on top of all that, he has body glitter clinging to his skin, like that roll-on stuff his sisters used to use as preteens, only pink-gold and twice as thick. It’s, like, professional grade. He’s also wearing grass- and dirt-stained pink silk women’s underwear, so maybe he’s from London. Maybe he’s a drag queen who crawled all the way from a nightclub in Soho just to save Louis from his horribly mundane and woefully heterosexual neighbours out here in the middle of nowhere.

---

or, Harry’s a clumsy unicorn who accidentally stomps on a witch’s garden and is turned into a human as punishment, so he wanders into a nearby village covered in glitter, still figuring out how to walk on two feet, and meets the fairy-tale-fine Louis, who has to teach him how to live as a human and stop him from eating soap.

☆ i’ll be your love tonight by dinosaursmate 20k

“I don’t know how I’m ever going to walk away from you.” “So don’t.” Harry ran a fingertip over Louis’ thigh. “Stay with me.” - It's the summer of 1999 and Louis Tomlinson has been abandoned at a house party. A dispute over Smirnoff Ice and several night buses later, Louis is unsure how he'll ever walk away from this lovely, curly-haired boy.

☆ carried away like butterflies by dinosaursmate 17k

“Actually…” Liam said, scratching his chin absently. “I have a friend who is moving to London soon.” “Without anywhere to live? Who is it? Do I want them living in my home?!” “You met him at my birthday party. Harry, from Cheshire. Remember? Really tight jeans, curly hair down to here?” Realisation dawned on Louis, staring at Liam who was gesturing round about his nipples. Did he remember Harry? Did he remember Harry? He remembered Harry’s square front teeth biting into his collarbone, and he remembered Harry moaning, loud and obscene with no provocation. He remembered Harry dropping to his knees at the edge of the bed and roughly pulling Louis closer. He remembered, vividly, Harry’s lovely plump lips wrapping around his- “Lou?” “Uh- what?” Louis said, startled. “Oh, yeah. Um, I think I remember him.” - It was probably a huge mistake for Louis to let his former One Night Stand move into his spare room, especially when said One Night Stand doesn't seem to remember him.

☆ head head heart by turnyourankle 12k

After Dunkirk has wrapped filming, Harry struggles with his inability to reach subspace. He tries taking the matter in his own hands before Louis intervenes with a plan of his own.

☆ i got my eyes on you (you’re everything that i see) by balanceds 11k

“It’s not a secret, right, Harry? All of his friends seem to know--”

Harry slumps down and starts methodically banging his head against his newsroom desk. “Niall, it is a secret from him because I have spoken a total of ten fucking words to Louis Tomlinson and also he is incredibly out of my league and probably fucking straight as well!”

Or: Harry's a first-year on the school newspaper, assigned to cover the terrible men's first football team. Louis Tomlinson is the team's star defender. Harry pays significantly more attention to Louis's arse than to writing real columns. Pretty soon, everyone notices. It takes Louis the longest.

☆ then we kiss (all i wanna do is have a good time) by orphan_account 24k

Harry shuffles further into the room, timidly taking a seat on one of the chairs set in front of Louis’ table. He keeps his eyes on the floor, fumbling for words. “Sorry, I’m just—it’s just that I’m a bit nervous. And, uh, I wasn’t really expecting for you to look so—” he cuts himself off, just in time to keep himself from saying beautiful.

“Young?” Louis guesses, and Harry just nods, going along with it. “Yeah, don’t worry. I get that a lot, mate. People don’t really expect you to be head writer at twenty-nine. They think to get the job you have to be in your forties, or something.”

So a five-year age gap. Cool.

(harry is a potential new writer for a comedy show. louis is his kind-of boss. they flirt. stuff happens.)

☆ other habits (make your pleasure your pains) by jtsbbsps_dk 19k

Freaky Friday High School AU.

Wherein Harry just wanted to have lunch with his older sister, Cal sells ice cream, Gemma has a test, Anne thinks she knows (she really doesn’t) and Fate plays match maker, because no one puts her ship off course. Louis just tries to help out his best friend's little brother while dealing with a metaphorical butterfly invasion.

☆ the boy in the pikachu pants by mrsstylinson 20k

Louis stars as the bumbling idiot who's only a bumbling idiot around Harry. Harry stars as the charming bastard who steals his heart completely. They meet in the middle of a hallway with Louis in a state of considerable undress, singing Destiny's Child at the top of his lungs. Somehow that seals it for Harry. This is the boy he was always meant to fall in love with. Louis feels the same, only slightly more defeatist. It takes them a while to figure things out.

☆ all the small things by kitundercover 20k

AU. Harry is five inches tall and can't remember how he got that way, but maybe with Louis' help they can work it out. ---

Louis stares. “You’re five inches tall,” he says finally.

“I am about that.” The tiny man agrees.

“You’ve been making strange noises and scaring the shit out of me.”

“I’m sorry.” The tiny man winces.

“You’ve been breaking my things.”

“Not on purpose.”

That voice is disconcertingly deep, and Louis keeps wanting to look up and find the fully grown person that it must surely be coming from. He takes a deep breath and moves onto the next impossible point.

“You’ve been riding my rabbit,” he says.

☆ like two softened shoes by marie24 14k

He sets his laptop on the bed, backing away and running his hands repeatedly through his curls. Okay. This is okay. This is fine. This is not real.

Will peeks his head around the door frame.

“Uh, everything okay in here?”

Harry tries to keep his breathing under control. “Yeah!” he says. “It’s, um, everything’s fine!” He can hear himself talking really loudly. Will looks doubtful.

“Are you sure? Because it really seems like -”

Harry barks out a laugh, cutting him off. “Okay! So this is going to sound really strange. But.” He looks at Will, with the same shiny fringe, blue, blue eyes, and sharp cheekbones he’d been writing about the whole last week. He worries his lip frantically between his teeth. “Um. I think I… I think I… wrote you?”

Or, Harry is a writer who gets through his writer’s block by pouring his feelings for his best friend Louis into a character. A few days later, the character lands in his bed, three dimensional and with no idea how to get back where he came from. He turns out to be very inconvenient for keeping Harry’s feelings to himself.

☆ ready to fall by whoknows 21k

“Ninety and rising,” Nick says triumphantly, as though making Harry’s heartbeat pick up by thrusting an obscenely attractive person in front of his face is any kind of success. “Louis Tomlinson has just walked into our control room and suddenly our dear Harry Styles has lost all ability to speak. Could this be some kind of strange coincidence?”

“I hate you,” Harry hisses, forcing his eyes back into Nick’s direction, uncaring that the mic must have picked it up. “I thought we agreed that you were going to play fair.”

“I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Nick denies, except he’s holding up a picture of Louis’ face now, sharp cheekbones prominent, soft lashes nearly sweeping against his cheeks as he looks down, and his fucking mouth –

“A hundred and two!” Nick crows, all but clapping his hands together in glee. “The highest it’s ever been!”

“To be fair, I did bend over the desk on purpose,” Louis’ voice comes crackling in the headphones. Harry practically breaks his neck whipping his head around at the sound of it, gaping at him through the glass panel. “You can’t really blame him for getting a little excited about that, can you?”

☆ gnossienne by pukeandcry 11k

Louis sets a challenge for himself; it gets a bit out of hand.

☆ tonight’s not over (come over and stay) by louistomlinsons 17k

Zayn doesn’t say anything for a moment, pausing and worrying at his bottom lip. Finally, he asks, “Have you heard that Cox guy is coming out with a new song?” Louis freezes, fingers hovering over his keyboard where they had been typing his password. “No, I hadn’t,” Louis says truthfully. “Where did you hear that?” “Tell anyone this and I’ll kill you, but I’d consider myself a big fan,” Zayn says. His face doesn’t change in expression, completely serious as he admits this to Louis. “Big fan? Like run a blog and everything?” or, harry is a famous singer and louis is a student who just wants to write his novel

☆ a love that feels this right by dontlethimgo 14k

As always, the classic high-school rumour mill is never completely reliable. Sure, there are those stories that fly around that turn out to be true—like the one about Niall getting with a model at a party a few months ago (which Louis still struggles to believe)—but this ‘rumour’ has so many versions, and none of them are actually right.  

The Sixth Form AU where Louis is the footie team captain, Harry is head boy, and no one at school has any idea that the two of them are in love.

☆ put your head on my shoulder by wayfared 18k

Niall gives Harry until the end of marching season to either a) make a move on Louis Tomlinson or b) get the fuck over him. Either is easier said than done. Basically, your High School AU with a drum beat.

☆ some nights i’m scared you’ll forget me by pukeandcry 15k

Zayn stifles a groan. He’s not terribly surprised -- Harry’d been mooning over Louis since the day they met three years ago when Zayn had moved into the house next to him -- but he’d been hoping that Harry would eventually get over it and redirect his attention to someone else. This development does not bode well for that turn of events, though. (High School AU)

note: this is zayn’s pov and has a decent amount of ziall and a lot of zarry friendship if i remember!

☆ oh how i hate this red string of fate by calamityk 14k

Harry thought being able to see people’s strings die would be the worst thing about his gift, until at twenty-two he finally met the other end of his own. --------- Or that soulmate AU where Harry can see the red strings of fate that tie everyone together.

☆ smoke dreams from smoke rings by objectlesson 18k

“When I get a craving?” Louis says, “You have to help me chase it away. Distract me”

Oh. Harry can think of about one hundred different ways to distract Louis Tomlinson. One hundred better uses for his mouth, for example. “Erm,” he squeaks, well aware of the fact that he's grinning and dimpling and blushing all at once, his whole face a suddenly mortifying warzone of transparent emotion. “How?”

“By hitting my arm as hard as you can,” Louis announces, holding out the arm in question. It bridges the gap between them, stiff and expectant, and Harry stares, not entirely sure if Louis’s being serious, if this is some prank that he isn’t clever enough to understand, or if the promise of touching Louis under any circumstances is so titillating that he just can’t process it. Louis rolls up the sleeve of his hoodie then, revealing his pale inner arm in maddening increments, pushing Harry somewhere between drooling and vomiting, he isn’t sure which. He just knows that his mouth is flooded, and the barely-there ghost of Louis’s veins through his skin is the prettiest thing that he’s ever seen. “Go on, hit me,” Louis orders. “Don’t be shy,”

--- or, Louis enlists Harry to help him with his bad habit.

☆ milkshake by speechless 13k

He's been saying it for years. He doesn't care that it makes Liam roll his eyes and Zayn sigh and Niall crack up. Lots of things he does get that kind of reaction from the boys anyway. Louis won't stop saying it, 'cause it's true. His milkshake does bring all the boys to the yard. It's a fact.

So the day he decides to get into Harry Styles' pants he says it again, when all three of his roommates are there to witness it. "I'll fuck him by the end of the month. You'll see."

☆ you drive me crazy (i just can’t sleep) by objectlesson 19k

The first time Louis ends up in Harry’s bed is a total accident.

☆ happily ever after by theneverending 19k

"It’s the Peter Pan that I work with most days. Harry got placed with us today and it’s really quite funny to watch him make starry eyes at Peter Pan from behind his camera. As if that would hide anything,” Niall claims with an eye roll, causing Harry to blush even harder.

“I didn’t think you’d notice,” Harry responds lamely, suddenly becoming interested in his food again.

“Harry, when you like someone, it’s written all over your face. You just kept staring at him.”

“That’s my job, I have to stare at him to make sure the photos come out nice.”

“You wouldn’t be getting defensive if I wasn’t right,” Niall rebukes, and Harry really can’t argue with that, so he lets Niall have the last word.

or, the one where louis and harry work at walt disney world, louis is a character performer for peter pan, and harry's the photographer that sometimes gets to work with him.

☆ like the stars that shined by butliamwhy 12k

Louis has stars in his eyes. Harry has known it since they were kids. They have their own tree, their own café booth, and so many years to fall in love. Perhaps a lifetime.

☆ green in the morning and blue afternoon by wildestdreams 14k

“Harry,” Louis whispered beside him.

Harry hummed, his hand coming up to stroke Louis’ back. Louis was still on top of him, his body sagging against Harry’s, heavy and warm, and Harry loved it.

“I don’t think it was a one off.”

“Me either, Lou.”

or

a Friends AU.

[duckseamail]

Queer Analysis of Frances Ha (2012--dir. Noah Baumbach)

Ok, so I just finished watching Frances Ha. It wasn’t my favorite movie of all time, but I liked it! And it also made me think of that one time in English class when I learned a bit about analyzing stuff from an lgbtq+ lens, and so I want to write that all down. (spoilers ahead) (also this is basically a summary of the parts I found important and then a couple paragraphs of analysis. it is definitely not organized like an essay i would write for school lol.)

So. This movie starts off with a montage of two women (late 20′s) just having fun together. They play fight, and walk around together, and it shows scenes of them living together, and it’s very domestic-y feeling. So my first impression was, oh they’re dating.

It turns out they aren’t they’re roommates and each of them has a boyfriend. But, the second scene is Frances having a conversation with her boyfriend, and he asks her to move in with him. She says no, she can’t. She promised Sophie (her roommate) that she would live with her until their lease is up. SO, Frances and her boyfriend break up. Frances goes home and she and Sophie talk about it as they get ready for bed, and they go to sleep in the same bed.

In my mind this is all pretty textbook romantic stuff, but we will get to why I don’t think Frances and Sophie’s relationship is romantic later. First I gotta go through the movie and explain how it works.

The movie is split into segments based on the place Frances is living. So it starts with an address, and that is her apartment with Sophie. Eventually, they stop living together and the movie cuts to black and a new address appears. Frances ends up living with these two guys she met through Sophie while she tries to move up in her career as a dancer. 

With these two guys, one of the -Benji- starts a joke of calling Frances undateable, because Frances is very awkward and very much a fun loving free spirit kind of gal. This becomes a running joke between the two, and I’ll come back to this so don’t forget!

This is basically the pattern of the movie. Frances moves to different places and in each place, her relationship with Sophie grows a little further apart. Sophie and her boyfriend move to Japan, they get engaged and Frances finds out when they are in New York for a funeral. They reconnect, and we see that they still care about each other so so much (although there is never a reason to doubt this - they both say they love one another). Sophie confides that she doesn’t want to marry Patch (her boyfriend) and the two talk about living in New York again. It’s kind of reminiscing and kind of suggesting that they go back to living together - or at least near each other. But, Sophie is drunk and in the morning she forgets their conversation and leaves before Frances is up.

The final scene of the movie is after a dance performance that Frances choreographed. She is talking with her old boss at the dance company she was with and sees Sophie. She overhears that Sophie and Patch are married now, and as she watches them, she and Sophie make eye contact. They start making faces at each other, the way you can with someone you are so close with and completely understand what the other person is trying to say.

Her former boss is still trying to have a conversation with Frances, and she asks “Who are you making eyes at?” Now, I think someone would use that phrase as sort of a way of asking like, who is that person you have a crush on, or something. For me, if someone asked that while I was looking at someone I had a crush on, I would deny that I was looking at anyone because there wouldn’t be any confirmed relationship between me and the crush which kind of makes things awkward when you’re caught staring. But, Frances just says that’s Sophie, she’s my best friend. She’s confident in their relationship and how much they care about each other, so she has no problem saying who Sophie is to her, but the way that they were looking at each other caused a third party to ask a question that implies romance.

Basically what I’m trying to say is that Frances Ha is a movie about a queer platonic relationship. What makes me think this isn’t just the bit at the end. Most definitions that I’ve seen of queer platonic relationships are that it is a committed relationship that has no romantic attraction between the people involved. 

So 1) commitment: Frances does not move in with her boyfriend, and instead ends up breaking up with him because she is more committed to living with Sophie. (Also I forgot to mention this but when Sophie moves out she says she’ll stay if Frances doesn’t want her to leave, but Frances doesn’t say anything). She and Sophie say “I love you” multiple times throughout this movie, and I’d say that is a commitment to caring about another person. Also, even when they are apart or are having a rough patch, they contact each other. I know that is pushing it, but keeping in touch when you don’t have a reason in daily life to see someone is pretty darn hard, and idk about you all, but if I keep in touch with someone outside of school, that is a relationship I am committed to doing the work for.

2) no romantic attraction. I know that sometimes in movies, it can be considered a little queerbait-y to have two people act romantic and then say they are “just friends”, but for these two, I really think they just care about each other in a deeply platonic way. Frances’ tone of voice when she tells her boss “she’s my best friend” is so sincere and full of love, that I honestly don’t think that Frances would ignore or try to hide any romantic attraction to Sophie. Also, this is only sort of connected but I feel like it fits; when I was questioning my sexuality, I was doing a lot of reading about what it meant to be asexual, and so I also ended up looking at some people talking about their experience being aromantic. Something I noticed was that people would sometimes feel like they were “undateable” or would never end up in a relationship (because they didn’t want to but felt like that was expected). The joke between Frances and Benji about her being undateable made me think of this, and that maybe she is aromantic. (I am not aro myself though, so let me know if this is actually wildly incorrect).

And Last but not least, there’s this line before Sophie and Frances talk about living together in New York again: “It’s just if something funny happens, on the way to the deli, you’ll only tell one person and that’ll be Patch, and I’ll never hear about it.” Frances wants to be the first person Sophie tells funny inconsequential things to. She wants to have the importance Patch (as Sophie’s boyfriend in a world where romantic relationships are often prioritized) has in her best friend’s life. 

[madlymiho]

Scenario for my Ace/Marine continuation, please! It's a long journey to Amazon Lily and Ace and his Marine get to know each other better. He even gets his hat back. Ace, ever the gentlemen, offers to give her a thorough sponge bath. It was a pretty serious injury, after all, and he's only trying to help....

Hehehehehehehe, here comes the sweet moment when the marine baby and Ace can FINALLY enjoy some fluff! ~

Oh what a journey, Ed! What a damn brilliant journey… With all my heart, this is all yours, captain.

Words : 3793

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Ace scenario: It was a promise (read after the cut)

“Hey, what are doing here?”

Ace freezes, his hand softly brushing the door handle, as he’s ready to visit her. It has been three days already. Three days that he desperately wants to see her, after that she has rescued him from a certain death in Marineford. Three days that he tries to find the perfect words to greet her, and thank her, without exposing himself too much, his big and warm heart racing hard whenever he’s thinking about her. He doesn’t know what he should do; he has never been in this situation before. He has never believed that he would actually fall in love with someone one day, and even less with a girl who’s nothing but Akainu’s apprentice and a damn marine. Well… She was. Now that she saved him, her bond with the Marine is definitely destroyed, and Ace is almost certain that Akainu wouldn’t even tried to rescue her; she’s an enemy for the world government, as much as he is. She lost everything. Her honor, her friend, and perhaps that odd and improbable link with the red admiral and his fierce nature. And for that, Ace needs to see her. He needs to know what damages he has caused in her life, and how she handles it. Because despite her strong and untamable nature, Ace knows how much it costed her to save his ass, and somehow, he wishes he could fix everything.

“Only five minutes,” Ace argues, turning his head to look at the severe features of Trafalgar Law, the captain of the submarine.

“No, not even five,” Law harshly answers, coming closer to prevent Ace from rushing in the room. “She’s weak. I don’t know if you have ever been stabbed by a spear before, Ace-ya, but she needs to heal and sleep. It’s mandatory.”

Ace pinches his lips together, slightly pushing his chest out as if he wants to challenge Law and see if the stoic captain could actually do something against him. Law only offers him a severe stare, until Ace actually leaves the door handle.

“When can I see her?” Ace asks, sighing.

“When I’d tell you so,” Law snaps, scratching the back of his neck with the top of his sword, impatiently. “Luffy isn’t awake either, so don’t knock on your brother’s door, would you, Ace-ya? He thinks you’re dead, and it might take longer for him to recover since he’s mind is broken. So, please, for the moment, you let them rest.”

Ace, irritates by the doctor’s cold sentences, makes a step forwards, eyebrows furrowed.

“And what am I supposed to do if I can be there for the both of them?” Ace snarls, angry.

“Why not resting as well, like I have already told you, Ace-ya?”

Ace is about to answer back when the door of her room suddenly opens, her tired face popping out of the cabin with dark circles under her eyes, not even trying to hide her angry mood.

“Is it a pirate thing to be so damn loud?!” She hisses, looking at the both of them impatiently. “I don’t know if you have noticed, but some of us try to have some rest here!”

Ace can’t help but smile, the corner of his mouth curling up into a slightly mocking smirk as he finally takes a look at her face, surprised, but so relieved to see her awaken. Even wounded and weak, she still possesses her fierce nature that he already loves perhaps too much. Law lets lose another sigh, waiting for Ace to understand that he should get away now that she’s awake and upset, but he notices that the two of them are staring at each other. Ace leans against the door, hands in his pants’ pockets, his smile growing on his lips while she crosses her arms around her chest and takes a step backwards, her cheeks slightly colored.

“What the hell are you looking at?” She snaps, unable to hide her embarrassment in her voice. “Do I have something on my face?”

“They told me you took a spear in the shoulder, but it seems like your face has been badly hurt as well,” Ace teases with a bright smile, extracting another deep sigh from her lips.

“What are you talking about, moron?”

Ace shrugs, his smile becoming awfully mocking now.

“You look like shit, Name… Dark circles under your eyes, a very crappy complexion. Even a zombie would be jealous of your not so fantastic face.”

She curls up her lips angrily and shows him her middle finger, already at the edge of jumping forwards to rip his throat open.

“Fuck off, Fire Fist, you look like a hobo with your messy hair and your ripped pants! Do you ever change your clothes?”

“Wanna solve this mystery in my cabin?” Ace purrs, extending his hand to brush her cheek, but she immediately slaps his hand down before he can touch her.

“I should have let you drown in that sea, you idiot…” She only answers in front of his bragging face.

Ace doesn’t answer, already knowing that he won this round. Her lovely embarrassed cheeks at the moment indicate him that her feelings have always been more than real, and now that she seems safe and sound, he almost feels the urge to rush in her room and desperately kiss her. However, the dark stare of the doctor is still upon them, his lack of patience visible on his features, and Ace doesn’t know if he’s healed enough to pick a fight with his rescuer. He’s about to turn his feet and heads back to his private cabin when he suddenly feels a tiny brush on his wrist, and a soft gasp coming from her lips as if she just has stopped herself from begging him to stay.

“Name, you need to rest,” Law comments once again, already perfectly aware that she doesn’t want to let Ace go.

“I know that,” she snaps with a severe voice. “But I need to give him something back, first.”

Ace frowns and looks at her face, but since she seems serious about the situation, he eventually nods and steps in her room, ignoring the impatient stare of Law on his back. He doesn’t really understand what she wants to give him back, yet, it’s the perfect occasion to steal a bit of her time. Once she slams the door behind him, arguing one last time with Law, he turns his feet, and notices how close they are to each other. The cabin inside the submarine are much tinier than on Whitebeard’s ship, but for once, Ace doesn’t feel like he would complain about it. She clears her throat, embarrassed to perfectly sense the everlasting heat of his body near her own, as she’s barely able to look at him in the eyes. And for once, Ace is absolutely speechless. Several minutes ago, he was full of confidence and comebacks, but now that he’s finally with her, nothing comes out of his mouth.

“You asked me to keep this,” she eventually speaks while she grabs something on the metal drawer.

She flushes as she puts Ace’s hat right against his bare chest. He lowers his gaze, then smiles, grabbing the corner of his headgear to slide it and let it hang behind his nape, the orange rope rolled around his neck, as he always do when he doesn’t wear it on his head.

“How did you manage to hide it?” Ace asks with a slightly tender voice, looking back at her face. “I wouldn’t have been mad if you had thrown it away.”

She widens her eyes, shaking her head.

“Are you for real? I took so many risks to keep your precious hat safe! And now you tell me that I could have just thrown it away?”

Ace laughs softly, amused by the many emotions crossing her face and her eyes. He doesn’t know if she’s truly pissed, or if she’s still playing a game, but he’s burning to check something now. To have an answer about a certain question. Ace takes a step forwards, closing the gap between their two bodies as he slides his hand behind her back to hold her still. She closes her eyes for a second, and then gently lifts her head up, her stare chasing for an answer in his eyes. Ace understands her silent invitation, and before she could even think to protest, he softly puts his lips on hers. She breathes heavily, first remaining still and lost, until she eventually rolls her arm around his neck, putting herself on her tip toes to answer his kiss. For once, there’s nothing to stop them. There are no more side, no more duties. No more marine and pirate. Only two human beings who actually care about each other, driven by their deep and real feelings, as they share a passionate and needed kiss. Then, trusting their inner instincts, they both open their mouths, a soft moan escaping from both of their throats. Ace pushes her back against the drawer, his lips devouring hers, as he can’t stop himself for a moment, his tongue challenging her own wet muscle, their breaths short and heavy. His hands falls down, holding the edge of her rear, before she eventually parts her lips, putting a palm on his chest, panting.

“Ace we should…,” she doesn’t know how to end her sentence without sounding like a real cock-blocker since she’s full of desires as well, but Ace nods and brushes her cheeks, his smile coming back on his lips.

“Yeah, I think it’s better. Plus the doctor might evict me from here at any moment,” Ace states, ready to leave her to rest now that he has his answer.

It’s all real. They are real.

“Can’t you stay for a bit?” She asks, grabbing his wrist before he can turn his feet to leave her here.

Ace fights his profound desire to snap a mocking comeback, yet, in front of her needy and concerned face, he swallows his comments and eventually nods to express his agreement. She puts a knee of the bed, sliding her body in the sheets to have some comfort, never leaving Ace’s wrist while she pulls him against her. Slightly amused by her sudden need to have him closer, Ace doesn’t protest and happily joins her, carefully rolling his arms around her waist to hold her against his torso.

“Don’t you dare thinking that I like you,” she can’t help but snap, her fingers tracing invisible lines on his skin.

“You’re crazy about me, Name, but I forgive you,” Ace jokes, pressing his lips on her forehead. “I would be crazy about me as well, if I was you.”

“You’re a brat, Ace.”

“You sound delusional. Perhaps I should call for that bitch face doctor to check on you?” He smirks as he puts his hand on her forehead, as if he’s checking for a fever.

She bursts into a soft laugh, and Ace feels his heart wrenching hard inside of his chest. She eventually lifts her chin up, digging her uncommon eyes into his own irises, more serious than before.

“How’s your brother?” She asks in a whisper, a bit unsure, too afraid to actually step in something too intimate, now perfectly aware of Ace’s past, and the terrible name he has tried to hide for so long.

He smiles, tenderized by her genuine question, as he presses her body closer, his legs intertwining with hers. And just like that, they begin to talk. Ace, about his childhood in East Blue, the burden he has always hidden, even from his brothers, for being the son of a monster. His dreams, his hopes, his love for Whitebeard and his crew… Until she actually opens her heart as well, driven by his sweet and tender aura, giving her the sensation that nothing could ever reach her anymore, now that she’s lied between his arms.

***

“What time is it?” She asks, her voice slightly tired and broken.

Ace is half-asleep, his hands heavy on her belly, while he muffles a sort of answer when she starts to move in order to find a clock somewhere near the bed. Yet, she growls angrily, and he doesn’t really know why she needs to get out of his grip like this.

“It’s late…” He manages to whisper, clearing his throat while he opens one of his eyes. “Why are you moving like a damn fish, Name?”

“It’s my wound. It itches. The bitch face doctor, as you call him, told me that I need to take a bath like yesterday, but I was too weak to get out of the bed.”

Ace smirks, now fully awake, his teasing nature sets on fire.

“That explains a lot about the smell in this cabin.”

“Oh really, I thought it was because of your dirty pants and your sockets! If I need a bath, you clearly need to add some white spirit in yours, you moron.”

Bath. Together. Alone in the dark. Ace immediately smiles and straightens-up his torso, putting his elbow on the mattress to rest on it, looking at her pouting face while he can’t help but offer her his best wink. She knows that he’s up to something, but she barely can fight the need to have him a bit closer than before.

“I can help.” Ace innocently states, pointing at her wound with a motion of his head.

She brushes her bandages, feeling her cheeks burning under his stare, while she already imagines the both of them entirely naked in a tiny bath tub. She first frowns; ready to snap him to fuck off, yet Ace’s mischievous eyes are enough to make her change her mind.

“Fine…,” she mumbles in a sigh.

“Oh, what did you say?”

“I said fine!” She angrily snaps, pushing him out of the bed with all of her remaining strength, until he eventually falls on the ground, causing him to burst into a mocking laugh.

Several minutes after, the hot bath is ready, and both of them are numb, embarrassed, while she tries her best to drop her clothes on the floor, but feels terribly disabled with her bandages. Ace doesn’t know if he should help or remain still, his cheeks nothing but like a ravenous fire. He eventually musters up his courage and takes a step forwards, helping her getting rid of her soiled bandages but also her clothes, unbuttoning her shirt with slow and messy gestures to reveal her silken skin. He clears his throat loudly, avoiding at any cost crossing her stare, as he looks like a lost boy in front of the greatest mystery of the universe. Once her torso is bare, her arm hiding her breasts, he dares to take a look on her stitches, hoping that there’s no infection underneath. She smiles, amused by his serious and focus gaze, as he fights his inner needs and natural desires to look down on her chest. She eventually turns her feet to get rid of her pants, before she carefully enters the water, while Ace finds it pretty interesting to look at the ceiling and analyze it for a moment, feeling his heart strongly racing inside his chest. Once she’s fully submerged, Ace kneels near the bath tub and grabs a washcloth and a block of soap, digging it into the water to spread some of it on the coarse fabric. He starts to rub her arm, unable to let his hand fondling anything else on her body, while she remains muted, staring at the soft bubbles of the bath. He tries his best to reach her opposite shoulder, and for a moment, he somehow always avoids her wound, too worried to actually brush it and causes another unnecessary pain. After a moment, she gently grabs his wrist, her stare a bit shifty, even if she manages maintain a shy eye contact with him.

“It’s not really convenient like this, Ace…” She says, her breath shorter than usual.

“I know, it’s just… The tub. I can’t really reach your all body you know,” Ace snaps as an excuse, stopping his gesture.

“Why don’t you come in, then?”

Ace opens his mouth, and closes it, unsure about the meaning of her sentence. He checks on her features, trying his best to read her emotions, as he discovers that she’s more than decided to have him inside the bath tub, with her. He sighs, terribly nervous and trying to keep a cold head, while he finally stands back up, turning his feet to unbuckle his pants and slides them down on his legs, grabbing his underwear in the motion, all of these gestures quick and sloppy, since he feels her stare on his back. He hears a muffled laugh coming from the tub, and more than flustered, Ace covered his bare butt with his hat and throws her a deadly stare.

“Don’t you dare? I didn’t look at you!”

“What a sight, Fire Fist,” she jokes with an evil smile, biting her bottom lip. “Two adorable peaches…”

“Stop that, or I swear I’m drowning you right now…”

“So easily flustered…”

However, she cuts it immediately when Ace turns around, sliding his hat in front of his crotch to face her, exposing his shaped body, covered with freckles, a piece of artwork for sure. She flushes and pinches her lips together, unable to mock him anymore, now that he’s about to join her in the hot tub. Hesitantly, he steps forwards, finally stepping over the tub to slide himself behind her. She freezes because of their sudden proximity, her hands immediately grabbing the edge of the cold basin as he finds a better position behind her. She’s squeezed between his legs, and for a moment, they only manage to create endless waves splashing on the ground because of their movements, but soon enough, they both stop even to breath, waiting anxiously for the water to stop soiling the tiles. Ace, who can’t really hide his timid but present arousal, takes back the washcloth, putting some hot water mixed with soap on her bare shoulders. Despite her shyness, she starts to relax under his careful touch, pushing her back against his chest after a moment, as he gently begins to wash her body, first only brushing her arms and her collarbone. He bites his bottom lip for a second, suddenly more than excited by this new proximity, his gloved hand now ghosting her torso, fondling her sensitive skin at the edge of her breasts. She hums, her head falling against his shoulder, while he presses the washcloth nearer her sensitive areas, making slow and soft rounds on her delicate skin.

“Ace…,” she whispers painfully, her voice deeper than usual, as she turns her head to breathe in the crook of his neck. “What are you doing?”

He slides the washcloth down, skimming her belly, feeling her burning breathing becoming urgent, as he keeps going south, his touch fiercer and bolder than before.

“I’m helping cleaning you, Name…” Ace answers in a short breath, his throat dry and painful, his hard manhood totally trapped between their two bodies.

He’s now skimming her inner thigh, her back and arms covered in goosebumps, as his mouth finds its way to her neck, licking gently the little droplets rolling on her flesh. She doesn’t protest; she tilts her head to grant him a better access, eyes closed, feeling his touch everywhere on her body. She even plasters a hand on her mouth, trying her best to control those little moans coming out of her throat, enjoying his every ministrations and sweet tenderness, suffocating her slowly. Ace can’t help but bites her neck, smoothly pulling on it while his hand comes a little bit upwards, so close from her most intimate part, yet clearly avoiding it.

“How do you feel?” Ace asks, his free hand fondling her arm, to go up and brush her hair.

“Good,” she answers quickly, trying her best to hide her shaking voice, and the fact that she’s more than good under Ace’s touch.

“As always, you’re the worst liar.” Ace growls, catching her chin to make her spin her head and steal a hungry kiss on her lips.

The sudden movement increases the waves inside the tub, their bodies sliding against the basin while they both share an intense and intimate kiss, tongues out. Ace abandons the washcloth on the ground and cups her jaw, unable to stop his movements for a while, until she eventually parts her lips and looks at him with some tender eyes. He feels that she’s ready to take things further. The way she grabs his arm, and the soft call within her irises, asking for more, desperately craving his entire body. He wants her as much as she wants him. She’s about to tell something, but they are both interrupted by a knock on the door. Ace freezes and looks at the entrance of the bathroom, afraid that Law might have found them.

“Ace-san, it’s…it’s Bepo!” Bepo says through the door.

Ace raises an eyebrow, unable to remember someone called Bepo.

“He doesn’t know you, idiot…,”

“What he doesn’t know me? I saved him from drowning! He knows me, Penguin!”

Ace remains silent, frowning, as he patiently waits for the two people behind the door to stop arguing. He remembers Bepo now; he’s that big fluffy polar bear who follows Law like a shadow and hugs everyone. However, since Bepo and the other man called Penguin don’t stop babbling behind the door, he eventually closes his eyes and clenches his fist, slightly frustrated for being stop in the middle of something… important.

“Hey! I’m still here, you know!” Ace snaps, sighing impatiently as those people remind him how Luffy can act sometimes.

“Ah, sorry!” Bepo yells once again. “My captain asked me to tell you that if you don’t leave the bathroom immediately, he’s going to dismember your body in pieces and would plaster them everywhere in your room, so you stop bother the lady anymore.”

She chokes, plastering a hand on her mouth as she starts to snort, while Ace widens his eyes.

“What the hell did he say?” The raven-haired pirate asks again, not entirely sure about the meaning of that odd sentence.

And before he can understand what’s happening, a blue bubble appears around them, taking away Ace’s body somewhere in the yellow submarine, while she remains alone and numb, but fervently happy, laughing hard inside the bathroom as she feels nothing but at peace, for once. An inner voice even tells her that she might get used to the pirates’ way of life, in the end…

[skylights422]

@ace-and-aro-wlw-positivity created a Q&A for aspec authors/writers, and as an aspec author, I am excited to participate and answer as many of their questions as I can. Under a cut since it became really outrageously long.

1. What was your inspiration for your character(s)? Are they modeled on yourself, a person that you know, or a character that’s already been established?

Typically I’d say my characters are a mix of general inspiration from other stories/characters and then bits and pieces taken from myself. I try not to make any of them like a clone of myself or another character, try to mix it up, possibly with mixed success but that is the goal.

2. How much, if any, has your character(s) changed since they were first created? What caused this change?

Oh wow, okay I have characters I still use from grade school and middle school, and those characters have changed/grown a lot. Most notoriously (to me) though are my two fellas Euphranor and Kadri. I created them while daydreaming in middle school while watching those science videos in class about how I could make a more parody-like version of said videos, Kadri being the energetic and comically sadistic teacher and Euphranor being the constantly irritated and foul-tempered student. The core of their designs and personalities haven’t totally changed (Euph is still a hot-head and Kadri still likes to troll him), but they’ve become far more nuanced as characters as their story become more involved and serious. They’ve also become softer characters, with Euph having a Heart of Gold and Kadri being a bit morally grey but generally compassionate and friendly. I think the cause of this change and others comes from a mix of things, for one I simply got older and what I wanted out my characters changed a bit. But also I think it’s because I spent so much time with those characters in my head that I couldn’t help but develop them more fully, which in turn made me want to give them a good story. Also, everyone is definitely more queer now then how they started, largely because I became more aware and comfortable with my own queer identity and spent more time in queer spaces (though with Euph I actually just realized he had to be gay because I every het relationship I envisioned for him fell totally flat and yet imagining him as having crushes on guys just seemed to work better/make more sense, and that was an earlier decision).

4. Do you intend on publishing your story one day? Why, or why not?

I definitely do! I have many, many stories I want to publish, as books or comics or tv shows or films. I’ve always wanted to publish some of writing since it’s one of my main passions and have always taken inspiration from the stories I consumed. I just love writing and would want to be able to do it as my main career, the key will just be figuring out how to focus on one project long enough to finish it. xD

5. Surprise fact! Give a random fact about your character(s), whether it’s their favorite color, food, or even song!

Euphranor loves to sing! He hums to calm himself down and even full on sings to vent his feelings sometimes. Kadri loves literature and video games, and blackberry pie is his favorite food.

6. Admit it, you have a folder on your computer of the various types of picrews you’ve created for your character(s). Would you mind posting a few (or five)?

*VIBRATES* MY TIME HAS COME. I absolutely have way too many picrews of my fellas so I won’t post them all, just two each for the core four of my main novel project. First, Euphranor:

(yes he is a Hufflepuff)

Kadri:

(also since I dragged the Hogwarts houses into this Kadri is Ravenclaw)

Ena:

(I put her in Gryffindor)

And finally, Fiera:

(Right now I have her in Slytherin. She could also be in Ravenclaw though)

7. Time to get serious for a bit. There’s been heavy debate on having non-human characters identify as ace, aro, non-binary, etc., but never actual humans. As someone who’s aspec, how would you explain to someone who’s allo why this can be and is seen as hurtful?

I mean, as a sci-fi fan I definitely love if the non-human characters are queer coded, but it’s definitely important to include human representation as well, and I think there are a few simple reasons for that. One is that queer people are, in fact, humans, and therefore our stories deserve to be told as they are in reality as well as how they could be in fiction. The other is only writing us as inhuman implies you consider our identities as fictitious or too strange for a human to have, and queer people already have to deal with other forms of erasure and invalidation in real life. (Also, not everyone is a fan of sci-fi/fantasy, and they should still be able to read stories where they can see themselves)

8. It’s a sad reality that many stories in mainstream media don’t have characters that are aspec, not to mention without resorting to harmful stereotypes. Besides there being nothing wrong with IDing as aspec, why did you choose to have your character ID as such? What would you tell other authors who’re interested in writing characters that are aspec, but are afraid of offending the community?

I have a huge list of aspec characters, which definitely started happening more once I was aware of my own asexuality (and later, aromanticism), since I realized that I could make my own aro and ace characters and then just went wild with it lol. It’s also easier for me to write since I can actually draw from personal experience somewhat for it. Beyond representation having aro and ace characters also allows you to explore more facets of human emotions/the human experience, so that’s always fun.

As for how I would advise allies looking to write a-spec characters, my main advice would be to remember that we are an incredibly diverse group of people, and so while no one a-spec character will resonate with every a-spec reader, an a-spec character written in good faith will definitely speak to some of us. Write them as an character first, and when it comes to things like how their attraction does or doesn’t work and what they want out of relationships, figure out what works best for them. Really, if you’re concerned your character would be offensive in some way you can always make a post asking about it, many of us are happy to offer constructive advice and appreciate that someone is wanting to put in the effort to write about our experiences. Reading or listening to anecdotes from an array of a-spec people is also a good way of getting ideas of how to portray us, and there are various resources for that (the tags, AUREA collects anecdotes from arospec individuals, and probably more than I can think of offhand)

9. If you’re comfortable with sharing, what is your characters’ identity? Do they use any microlabels? Does theirs reflect your own?

Unsurprisingly I have many characters who are aroace (Fiera is one of them), and Ena is bisexual and gray-aromantic. Kadri was originally supposed to just be bi/pan but has become increasingly aspec, will they end up gray-aro as well as grey-ace? Will they end up as a pan oriented aroace? I don’t know yet, but they sure are a pan a-spec. My most recent project has exclusively aro-spec protagonists, Valentine is aroace, Cedar is demiromantic, Raelene is cupioromantic, and then Clematis and Hadyn are presently just Aro and might stay that way. My aroace characters are often styled after my own aroace experiences, while other a-spec characters aren’t as much.

11. Why do you think that not just representation is important, but GOOD representation? Can you offer any examples?

Well, I think there are a few ways to make ‘good rep’. There is the ‘this character helps bring awareness/educate about the community’ and then there’s ‘this character just resonates with certain a-spec people a lot’, and the main reason I think it’s important is because rep should be for the people they’re representing. So if rep hurts the community or totally fails to be relatable to anyone who’s actually a-spec, then it missed the whole point and is doing just as much to leave the community feeling left in the dust as no rep. Of course things do get complicated when the community is divided on whether the rep is good or not, which I imagine will be a common occurrence, and many examples of rep probably fall into the grey area between Good and Bad, but generally people should aim to tell stories that will help more than hinder the people you are telling your story about. (Although I also think that the long term end goal is to get to the point where there is enough representation that it doesn’t matter if some of it is ‘bad’ or not, since I feel like that is the true state of normalization, but that is sadly not yet the case)

12. What’s the genre of your most recent story? Do you always write in this genre? If so, what other works do you have? If not, why did you pick it?

My most recent story (with Valentine) is fantasy, inspired by shoujo style anime series like Cardcaptor Sakura, while Euph’s story is more dystopian urban fantasy? His exact genre has shifted around a lot and will probably continue to do so. In general, most of my works are fantasy in some way or another. A few are more sci-fi or horror based, but definitely the majority are fantasy whether that be magical girl type stories, urban fantasy, superheroes, or dark fantasy.

14. What’s a brief biography of your character? Is their history, personality, and/or looks similar to your own?

I’m going to go with Fiera here. The short version of her backstory is that she and her older brother were born to neglectful parents, and while their grandmother was attentive emotionally she also lived far away. Her brother discovered magic, long thought forgotten, but killed himself shortly after, leaving Fiera alone and confused. She then made a point to dedicate herself to studying the theory and history of magic in the hope that she may someday understand why her brother would take his own life so suddenly like that. She has a down to earth personality and is very observant, and has a great deal of ambition and focus for tasks. She naturally has a more lighthearted and curious personality, but has become more somber since the death of her brother. While she always struggled with sustaining personal relationships, it’s only recently she started using her power of observation to be more manipulative and always keep a cool, pleasant demeanor. She has a love for fashion and sewing, as well as an interest in chemistry.

She isn’t really based on me at all backstory or appearance wise, and only slightly takes after me personality wise. Our main similarity is that we both can be quietly observant and don’t tend to get outwardly angry very often, and that we are both aroace. But I am nowhere near as focused as her, am terrible at lies/manipulation, and have different interests. I’m also way more prone to energetic rants and blunt statements than she is.

15. What are the themes of your story? Is it a lighthearted adventure, or are we talking deep, ocean-sized levels of angst? Why, or why not, did you choose them?

The tone of Euph’s story is kind of all over the place due to how often I’ve tweaked it, but there are certainly oceans of angst for all the protagonists. There’s just also decided remnants of the wacky humor from when the story was predominantly a comedy, and a lot more scenes of the characters just relaxing or goofing off than might be typical in a high tension drama adventure. My story with Valentine is generally much more lighthearted, though there will be some deeper moments for character development (and also because I want it to have a slightly gothic vibe, just Because)

16. How long have you been writing? Has your style changed from when you first began to now? What are some tips you’d give to those who’re interested in writing a story of their own, be it professionally or as a hobby?

I’ve been writing in some capacity just about as long as I can remember, and so my style has definitely taken various shifts depending on how old I was and what I was taking as my main inspiration at the time. Sometimes I went for more sarcastic and whimsical narration regardless of the events happening of the story, sometimes I went for a more quick modern-ish style, sometimes I would focus more or less on descriptions or dialogue. I don’t really know where I’m at right now though.

What I would advise to anyone wanting to sit down and write is to be patient and kind with yourself. Nine times out of ten what sounds epic in your head will come out at first as clunky and all over the place. But that is pretty much the whole purpose of first drafts; the clunky first draft crawls so the second draft may walk so the third draft may walk a little faster so the final draft may run. The other thing I would advise is to absolutely experiment, and see what works best for you. There is every kind of writing advice out there imaginable, much of it contradictory, so really you just have to mess around with styles and perspective and dialogue and see what happens, which stuff you liked and which stuff you didn’t.

17. What’s your process for writing? Do you plan your story out first, write whatever you want then edit later, or both? How might this help others?

My writing process is pretty much a mishmash of writing whatever comes to me, then planning, then writing, then using a bunch of character building exercises to have fun but make no progress in the plot, then neglect the project for months, then write some more or maybe plan. I don’t know how much this would help others, though I have found when I set goals with deadlines and some external pressure (nanowrimo, reward system implanted by friends, etc) I am far more productive, so perhaps that is something others could try if they struggle with staying on track?

18. Your book’s become quite popular, easily reaching the New York Times Bookseller list, and now, you’ve been picked to lead a writing workshop. It goes swimmingly, and afterward, someone comes and tells you that your book not only inspired them to write a story of their own, but also helped them discover and accept their identity. What’s your reaction?

Mostly I would just be flabbergasted, but also extremely pleased and honored to have been able to provide any kind of help or assistance to my readers.And I would feel very happy for the person, since that sort of inspiration is great to come by.

19. Are there any published stories out there that feature aspec characters that you also read? Do you have any suggestions?

Unfortunately not that I can think of! I am peripherally aware of some ace characters, but they aren’t in stories I personally consume. I hope to find more though!

20. Just for fun, write down a paragraph of your most recent writing. It can be an action-packed scene, some witty dialogue, or a colorful description that you really enjoyed. (Be sure to properly tag any possible triggers!)

Well, my most recent finished work would be the clunky first draft of my novel. So, here’s a silly conversation that entertained me to write:

Once they had bought the food, they went back to the park to eat. 

“You know, Fiera, I have come to a realization.” Kadri said.

“Oh? What’s that?” Fiera asked.

“Store snacks are not as filling as restaurant food, nor as refined, but they are decidedly addictive.” he said, munching on Twizzlers.

“Yep. That’s what makes them store snacks. Plus, I couldn’t get any really nice stuff. I’m not made of money.” Fiera explained.

“Which brings me to my next question, how exactly are you financing our meals? You don’t seem to work a job of any kind.” Kadri said. Fiera was almost surprised that he knew about jobs, but decided not to ask about it. 

“You’re right, I don’t. But my parents leave me about sixty bucks a week so that they can do what they want without me starving to death in their absence. After yesterday and just now, I’m down to like eight bucks, and the next payment comes in three days, so after this stash goes it's dollar store snacks only.” Fiera explained.

“I see. Fascinating. And these drinks you bought us, why are they vitamin drinks?” Kadri said,looking over a vitamin water curiously.

“Because we definitely aren’t going to get any vitamins from chips and candy.”  Fiera said simply.

“There is logic to that, I suppose.” he said. There was silence for a few moments.

“Um… Kadri?” Fiera said after a while.

“Yes, Fiera?” Kadri said.

“You know you can’t eat a whole bag of Twizzlers in one go, right?”  Fiera said.

“I don’t see why not. If it is not going to give me the nutrients I need, it may as well provide me with the maximum level of pleasure it is capable of.” Kadri said.

“Yeah, but you’ll get sick. And we have limited supplies.” Fiera countered. Kadri looked at the bag of Twizzlers in alarm.

“These are poisonous in large doses!?” he exclaimed.

“What? No, not poisonous, they just make you sick because they’re candy. All candy does that if you keep eating it.” Fiera said.

“Commoners lead dangerous lives, it would seem. I shall never forget this betrayal.” He said to the bag of Twizzlers, putting it down and taking the vitamin water instead. 

[moonlights-shadow-warrior]

Hi, I’ve been following you for a hot minute and wanted to ask about how you define your asexuality and gray-romanticness. I am a poly/pan trans-guy trying to wrap my head around it and from your posts you always seem super nice and down to earth. Sorry if this is a weird question ^~^’

Ngl your ask did catch me off guard, although that was mostly due to the fact that a) I never get asks, and b) I rarely post my own stuff or comment on others’ posts so the fact that you said I seem nice and down to earth ‘cause of my posts threw me for a bit of a loop. Sweet though, and I’m glad I come off that way even though my blog is really just a mishmash of things I like and that catch me eye

Now as for your question

TL:DR Defining my asexuality means I don’t feel sexual attraction towards others (never have in my almost 23 years of life) and it honestly kinda confuses me simply because it’s something I’ve never experienced before and when others talk about it I just don’t get it

As for my greyromanticism, it’s more a transitional term as over the years I went from having loads and loads of crushes (I think) as a kid to now where I haven’t had a crush for multiple years as I move closer and closer to being aro ‘cause of some trauma that happened in my life. Same trauma is part of why gender does make a difference in my attraction now

Gonna start this off with some backstory saying I used to identify as bisexual, then pansexual, ‘cause I’d never heard of asexuality before and gender didn’t really play a part in my like for someone. And from the terms I knew, those seemed like the obvious choice at the time. But I also didn’t really,,, get it when some of my friends talked about how hot a person was or their list of actors they wanted to bone (and just celebrity crushes in general now that I think about it, although that could’ve very easily been due to the fact I can’t for the life of me remember who’s who in the realm of Hollywood). I’d just sorta nod along and listen ‘cause hey, people are different and just ‘cause we’re both pan doesn’t mean our experiences are exactly the same

Now at this time I was reading a lot—and I mean a lot—of fanfics ‘cause of escapism and all that jazz. And in one fic I came across there was a character—my favorite character—that was ace. When it got mentioned I didn’t think much of it ‘cause it was just ‘oh cool new term I haven’t heard before’. But then it was explained not only what asexuality was, but also what sexual and romantic attraction were—with examples for each of them—and how they didn’t always line up for some people. And it just

Clicked

I did a bit more research on it, reading things that other aces had posted talking about being ace, and it felt like it just fit me

It’s probably been close to 7 years since I last read that fic, but it was explained something like this

Have you ever looked at someone and wanted to fool around with them, maybe take a tumble in the sheets, but would never want to date them? That’s sexual attraction

And have you ever looked at someone and had your heart flutter and just wanted to go on dates and maybe kiss them but you wouldn’t describe them as sexy and the thought of having sex with them either didn’t cross your mind or made your stomach turn? Romantic attraction

And feeling the latter without the former? Well you might just be ace

Of course this isn’t a universal thing for those under the ace umbrella, but it worked for me and helped me realize something about myself

I don’t feel sexual attraction, which was why all those times my friends talked about how sexy someone was or who was on their f list, it felt like a foreign concept to me and the most I could say to relate was “well they are cute”

As for my greyromanticism, that one’s not as clear cut. Also cw for bad parenting and divorce/bad breakups basically idk

Like I said above, I used to get a lot of crushes as a kid. Looking back, were they all actually crushes or just me thinking a person looked cute? Who knows, but I’m pretty sure there were some

Walking in late only to see the new kid sitting there and immediately my heart rate picked up and I had trouble looking directly at them without blushing? Then picking up an instrument that they played just to try and be seated next to them in band class even though I had no idea what I was doing and had barely talked to them before?

Crush

Get partnered with someone for one assignment and then always trying to sneak glances at them out of the corner of my eye and it just so happens that they ended up in a lot of my photos of my middle school DC field trip?

Crush

Playing spin the faygo just for the chance to make out with one person ‘cause they’re hella cute and within an hour of knowing each other we immediately linked hands and threaded our fingers together while walking around?

Crush

Just as a few examples. Also I was shy and didn’t know how to socialize, which didn’t help at all in the creepiness factor

Now could some of my crushes have actually been just me becoming attached to someone who was nice to me one (1) time? Maybe, who knows, not me

Like I said above, me identifying as greyro is more transitional as I move closer and closer to identifying as aromantic ‘cause of trauma. Was I actually always arospec but just hadn’t heard of the terms like with asexuality? I don’t know because only after everything did I come across the term and my memory is so poor that I can’t properly recall the feelings I experienced. Even the above may not be accurate because my memory’s so spotty and my mind likes to insert things that never actually happened or are wildly different from what everyone else remembers

Which sucks but I digress

So that trauma I keep mentioning. As a child that had to deal with a rough divorce, it can bring on a whole slew of issues, some of which relate to relationships. I called my parents’ divorce almost a decade before it actually happened, and watching it go downhill to the point they could barely stand to be in the same room was rough. Not only that, but I had to give relationship advice to my father, from saying that he should go through with the divorce to giving my opinion on who he should date and if he should break it off or power through a rough spot or not come home for the night. Needless to say, all that warped my perception just a bit

And while that was happening, I had to deal with my own rocky high school relationships

While I haven’t dated a lot of people, a lot of the breakups were bad. Maybe not bad right away and we’d continue on being friends afterwards, but down the line something would happen where they’d either drop all contact or blow up at me without me knowing why or realizing something was off in the first place. And paired with the after effects of the divorce, it was a bad combination

But the golden lining was a breakup so terrible that it caused my datemate to hallucinate and go into such a depressive state that I’m pretty sure the after effects still influence how they act today when it comes to relationships. The four of us talked about moving in together, having a double wedding and all that. But then one left out of the blue and the other became harder and harder to contact until there was no response. And that all happened less than a month after I finally ran away from all the bs of the divorce and my father asking for relationship advice and being dropped so suddenly after what I thought was a good breakup

And after that I can only pinpoint 2 maybe crushes around the same time less than a year later

So yeah, traumatic

But I didn’t identify as greyro yet, because I hadn’t heard of the term

But even then I told my datemate that if we broke up I will never be in another romantic relationship after them because of everything. Because I didn’t really believe in love anymore

But I didn’t identify as greyro yet, even when I had heard of the term

I thought, nah, that’s not me, because I still thought I had crushes, as few and far between as they were. Because I didn’t know there were other kinds of attraction

And then my datemate asked if I had a crush on this one person, and I said no, and I realized that was the truth. I hadn’t had a crush on them. I wanted to hold their hand and cuddle and maybe give light pecks, protect them as best I could, but it wasn’t romantic. It wasn’t the same feelings as what I remember feeling in my childhood, what I feel towards my datemate

I had a squish, and once I realized that things started making a bit of sense. There were people I wanted to hold their hand, laze around in a cuddle pile to be close to them, maybe give them quick innocent pecks because I’m touch starved and want affection. But never were the feelings romantic

If that trauma had never happened, would I still say I’m panromantic instead of bi greyromantic? Who knows, not me

But what I do know is that if something were to happen and my datemate and I were to split, that the single romantic attraction I have felt in years was severed, I’d full on say I’m aro because they are my exception

My greyromanticism is transitional. It’s not “I feel romantic attraction sparingly” or “have a hard time distinguishing platonic from romantic” or the other common definitions I’ve seen around, but rather “I used to feel romantic attraction all the time, but now only feel it towards one person and if that were to go away, I wouldn’t feel it at all”

Sometimes I doubt myself, thinking maybe I’m experiencing crushes and just don’t realize it or am in denial. But then I think about it again and tell my doubt to shut up because that’s wrong and I know it

And wow that was a lot and I’m pretty sure I spent ~4 hours writing this without realizing it. I hope this answered your question though!! Word vomiting like this helped me realize a few things myself

Also wow I need therapy more than I thought

[like-rain-or-confetti]

Request: Similar Gifts. (Stefan x Reader)

You respected personal space now that every time someone touched you, you got their whole life story. It was annoying a lot of the time. Too long of contact just meant a rerun of memories and a constant noise. It took a lot of work to push it to the back of your head so that you didn't notice it anymore. Your mind finally becoming silent.

You were a nomad and had met Carlisle in 1850. When he was building his coven, he asked you to join him. You declined although the offer stayed open to this day. Carlisle didn't think you were a loner, like Alistair. He had met many and you didn't fit. You were unhappy, looking for your place in the world where that happiness resided. The place you felt content. He caught a glimpse of that when the Romanians unexpectedly turned up. A piece of him was glad they did because they seemed to get you talking and out of your bubble of solitude in the corner. More specifically, Stefan coerced you into talking to him. Vladimir seemed to encourage it. You smiled at them. Carlisle hadn't seen you smile in such a way in decades. Like many, Carlisle enjoyed your smile, not the small, contained smile but the genuine one, a grin that showed your perfectly white teeth. Not many could drive such a smile out of you, Carlisle noted that Stefan did so in two hours. As the days passed, the two of you got closer and closer. Stefan had only reached out to put a hand on your leather jacket. Luckily you wouldn't get anything from the contact, your clothes being a block. Other times he played with your long, low hanging necklace, twirling it around his fingers as he spoke to you.

One night, a bonfire was made and the vampires, along with a wolf, surrounded it. You sat on a log beside Stefan. By the time the Romanians were telling their story, you had your arm propped over Stefan's shoulder and leaning against it. "When we ruled, everything came to us, prey, diplomats, favour-seekers...such was our power but we never put on white hats and called ourselves saints." Vladimir said. "We were honest about what we were." Stefan piped up. "We sat still, for a very long time. We didn't notice we were beginning to petrify." "Perhaps, the Volturi did us a favour when they burned our castles."Stefan turned to Vladimir. "We've been waiting 1500 years to return that favour." 

You began asking questions, you knew nothing of the Volturi and the Romanians mentioning of them perked your curiosity. You heard about what one of the leaders, Aro could do and immediately caught the snarky comments the Romanians made about him. It worried you that if they found out you had the same gift then they'd be very different towards you. In turn, just as the thought crossed your mind, you were asked a very untimely question. "Do you have any stories (Y/N)?" A blonde, Tanya, asked. You shook your head. "No." "You must have. No one reaches even fifty years of this life and not have a story." Kate leaned forward with a smile. "Not to that extent I don't." You said uncertainly. "Tell us anything! It doesn't have to be a war story." Jake leaned over to catch eyes with you. "Uhh, alright." You never noticed how Stefan's head rested against yours. "So one day, I was passing through North America and a soldier stopped me...when I say stopped me, I mean scream at me in German and point his gun at me. It turns out, he was quite trigger happy and fired. I'm still not entirely sure what scared him, the fact that he shot me or the fact that the bullet did absolutely nothing to me." There were a few chuckles. "He immediately started properly screaming and ran away. The sight was so bizarre I had to take a moment to process what had just happened. Then, of course, I remembered -thanks to Carlisle- that he saw a bit too much and we all know how that ended." "(Y/N), are you really not going to talk about the crown jewels thing?" Emmett grinned with a pointed look. "That isn't really much of a story Emmett." You huffed. "I wasn't the one who broke in." "Come now, tell us." Vladimir grinned. "I was in a museum where the crown jewels were being displayed temporarily. A human tried to steal them. I saw an opportunity and took it. Carlisle nearly beat me senseless for it." "Wait, you stole the crown jewels!?" Jake exclaimed. "No, no. I took the opportunity to wear the crown. Let me tell you," you smirked eyeing everyone including the Romanians. "you should see me in a crown." "What a tempting offer." Stefan commented with a smirk of his own.

Things were very different the next time you were alone. Whatever it was that you felt for Stefan before had just been amplified. It seemed Stefan was more than happy to be vocal about this since it wasn't long before he approached you on the matter. You couldn't help but feel guilty. You hadn't told him about your gift. You were scared to. You didn't know what he'd think. Stefan noticed your unease. "Are you alright, my love? If you aren't comfortable-" "It's not that." You said quickly. "It's just that, I feel guilty because I haven't told you everything about myself." "Oh? Is there any particular reason?" Stefan didn't seem bothered about this until he saw just how much this bothered you. He took your face into his hands, encouraging you to tell him. "You can tell me anything, my sweet. It saddens me to see you in such pain because you're worried of my reaction." "I feel that if I tell you... there's a chance you might never look at me the same again." You said quietly but was met with silence. Stefan took a moment. "Go on, you can say it." "I... I'm gifted." "You are?" Stefan gave you a small smile. "Is this why you're worried? I don't mind that you are gifted. That changes nothing." "No, I'm more specifically worried about what you'll think of my gift when you know what it is... because you've seen it before." "I have?" You nodded with a grimace before placing your hands over his that were still on your face. "Everytime you touch me, I can read every thought you've ever had. I can see and hear them. Just...just like-" "Aro Volturi." Stefan finished. You looked up at Stefan, almost pleading. "I know I should have told you sooner, and I'm so sorry-" you didn't get to finish as Stefan's hands slipped out of your grasp to wrap around you in a tight embrace, pulling you into his chest, his head resting a top of yours. "(Y/N), you're being very silly." You stayed silent. "You've worked yourself up into such a state when there was no reason to. You are not him or any other Italian scum. You have no reason to fear or apologize." "Really? You're okay with this?" You felt Stefan's hand fall from the back of your neck to find your hand. "See for yourself." Relief washed through you. He didn't think any different of you even after your confession. You were so relieved that you barely caught Stefan's words.  "Look at me." When you did, he immediately caught your lips in a kiss. When he pulled away, a thought rushed to him and a smirk grew. "I suppose you'll just have to convince me you're not like him." "Well for one thing, Aro can't love you like I could." Stefan screwed his eyes shut. "Yes. That is most definitely an advantage!" Stefan shivered.

You weren't certain if Aro was intrigued by you because he'd never met you, a rarity for him or if he was intrigued because he noticed Stefan's hold on your elbow. Once greeting Carlisle, his gaze fell to you. "I don't believe I've had the pleasure. Come forward, I'd very much like to make your acquaintance." You took a step forward but were yanked back by Stefan who hurriedly protested. "Trust me." You looked over your shoulder. "I'll be fine." Stefan slowly and reluctantly let go. All the while, Caius' smirk grew, pleased to be making the Romanians squirm. "I believe you're Aro? I'm (Y/N), it's nice to meet you." You said simply as you moved closer to the Volturi. Aro wasted no time snatching up for hand to drink in your life. Little did he know, that was a two-way street.

Stefan shifted as he watched your face contort into one of discomfort. Aro's hand latched onto yours. He knew you'd know more than he'd like about his past. He didn't want you knowing too much detail, wanting to protect you from such but now he could do nothing but stand and watch. "It's uncanny, isn't it?" You spoke up, your eyes still glazed over slightly as you continued to his life, as he did yours. "Almost as if we were twins." "Well, that's certainly... something." Aro chose his words carefully, your hands in his. "Whoa, your past is dark." Your eyes were wide and your jaw stiff. You shifted again. "I got a rerun of my own life and yours. That is something el-hey! That's not very nice!" Aro pulled away sharply, remembering he was just as vulnerable as you were and you had most certainly heard his very low opinion of you. "That's a very big lie you told." You muttered to yourself. "I don't tell lies." Aro sneered. "You what!? You don't tell lies!?" You began to hysterically laugh, intentionally in an obnoxious way to really put across how wrong Aro really was.

Aro was like a child who just got the attention snatched away by his sibling, feuled with jealousy. He didn't like that he wasn't the only one with his gift. It made him replaceable by anyone. You could make many comments about killing his own sister but you wouldn't stoop to such a level...just dancing along the borderline would suffice. Perhaps even, with a light push. You could strike a deal with the devil himself.

[bi-and-happy]

i dare u to answer all the questions on the pride ask game ☺️☺️

Oh boy, here we go!

1. I am bisexual and I use she/her pronouns

2. I first realised I like girls when I was about ten years old, when I started secondary school. Because I also liked boys, I did some classic Repression^TM and convinced myself I was straight, which included a lot of internal homophobia, biphobia and bi erasure. It wasn’t until my second year of uni when I had my first boyfriend that I realised I was never going to have a good and healthy relationship with anyone, let along myself, if I didn’t come to terms with my sexuality and eventually come out

3. I am cisgender and I don’t look particularly androgynous so I have never been misgendered (except one time by a very embarrassed pizza delivery man)

4. The first person I told was my ex-boyfriend (see answer 2!) We had actually been broken up for about 8 months by that point but we were still friends at the time and he’s pansexual, so I knew he’d understand. He was annoyingly nonchalant about it and immediately made inappropriate comments but that actually worked out because we were in an airport so I couldn’t really have an emotional breakdown!

5. When I first came out (and then when I came out to my parents six months later) it was like I’d spent all this time and effort trying to hide this side of myself, and the effort of hiding just got too much. When I told my best friend (who’s a lesbian) it was super chill - I didn’t want it to be a massive deal so I found a time to slip it in, she was very excited that I’d finally told her (she’d known for about two years longer than I did!) and we immediately started talking about all the girls we had crushes on

6. I’ve kind of brushed on some people, but there were two main reactions: “That does not surprise me, I’ve suspected/known for a while” and “Wait? You like men?! I thought you were gay?” The only person who was surprised was my mum. She was very very quiet for a long time (although she gave me a hug so I knew she wasn’t mad) and let my dad do the talking (she did have some not-so-great things to say but it was nothing I hadn’t heard her say before so I had answers prepared). The next day, we had another chat, and she was a bit more positive then. It’s also worth mentioning that this is an ongoing process. I came out to them two and a half years ago now, and we’re still working some things out but we’re in the right direction!

7. Honestly this doesn’t come up very much, mostly because the vast majority of my friends are also bi, and I study performing arts so everyone’s at least a little bit queer. The question I get asked more often is how I can be an openly LGBT+ Christian (which is a whole other conversation which I would be happy to have if anyone is interested!)

8. Flannel. So much flannel. Also birkenstocks in the summer and combat boots (with rainbow laces) in the winter. I sometimes wear dresses (especially in autumn), and I do like pretty dresses/ballgowns when the occasion calls for it (which again, performing arts - sometimes I feel like I live in concert dresses). But my everyday look is fairly semi-butch. I’m working on my top butch energy

9. WHERE TO START. Okay, Jack/Bitty from Check Please; Jack/Ianto from Torchwood; Patsy/Delia from Call the Midwife; Callie/Aaron from the Fosters; Merlin/Arthur from Merlin; Lena/Kara from Supergirl; and my guilty pleasure, Harry/Cedric from Harry Potter (don’t judge me!!)

10. I very rarely leave the house without eyeliner and mascara on, but I rarely wear anything else unless it’s a special occasion. I’m generally of the opinion that if I can start the day with some killer eyeliner wings, you can make that day your bitch

11. Nope! Never experienced dysphoria

12. This isn’t the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard, but it is stupid because it was said by a gay men. “All these kids these days, in their LGBTQWXYZ community... [goes on to deliberately misgender people]”. Again, I have lots of thoughts on the dynamics of this which I will not unpack unless someone asks me to.

13. My friends!! I only have about two straight friends. I love all my friends, and I love my queer friends, and I love how we’re always there for each other and we always support each other. Even if everyone needs to stop dating within the friendship group.

14. See answer 12! The politics about different identities really annoy me. Non-binary people exist! Ace and aro people are part of the LGBT+ community! Bi and pan are different but overlapping identities and neither is better or worse than the other! So much infighting! Bi girls will not leave lesbians for a man! So much infighting.

15. I have never been and I’m out of town this year as well and I’m absolutely heartbroken!! I usually spend my summers working on various week-long projects around the country, and they always manage to bugger up any pride plans I had!

16. Ooooh absolute favourite? Probably Stephanie Beatriz. Followed by Kristen Stewart. And Tom Daley.

17. I had a boyfriend for a short time in my second year, we met at uni. Otherwise, I’ve been a single pringle!

18. I HAVE SO MANY. Absolute, complete, 100% favourite? The Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller. YOU ALL HAVE TO READ THIS OH MY GOODNESS. 

19. I’ve experienced more discrimination as a woman than as a member of the LGBT+ community! That being said, I was bullied in years 7-9 which included lots of calling me a lesbian, because children aren’t creative in their bullying and this was 2006. That definitely taught me to be ashamed of my feelings for girls.

20. Pride!! I love that film. Also Torchwood!

21. I’ll admit I don’t follow that many LGBT+ bloggers/vloggers... sorry!!

22. Queer!!! (And whether or not it should be defined primarily as a slur is also up for debate; again, I’ll expand if anyone wants me to.)

23. Yes yes yes! I have been to a grand total of three gay bars and loved all of them. Especially that last one. Because that was the one where I got drunk and snogged a girl which was great.

24. I’m a cisgender woman, and most of my thoughts about my gender link with my reading into feminist reading and my constant striving to become a better intersectional feminist!

25. I like the thought of having children. I do not like the idea of being pregnant and giving birth. For me, children is always something that comes as part of a relationship and probably marriage (spot the Christian upbringing!). I’m not definite either way; it’s a decision I would want to make with a future partner, as we created a family.

26. Bi people exist! You’re one of them! Stop hating yourself! Stop using your Christian upbringing as an excuse to ignore anything relating to your sexuality!

27. Gender roles are complete bullshit. Every couple is different, the strengths each member of the couple brings will be different, and it’s up to them to find their dynamic, regardless of how closely it resembles traditional gender roles.

28. Not really! Only that since coming out I’ve felt less pressure to be feminine

29. It’s bloody hard. Even if we’re loud and proud and yelling about it and having a good time, each and every one of us has been through shit to get here.

30. Because it’s who I am! I’m proud to be LGBT+ because it’s who I am, and it’s a community that has come so far and is still making incredible strives forward but is subjected to so much pain and yet we keep going. Much love to you all!

Wow, I’m exhausted after that. Feel free to ask any questions about anything I said there! I touched on a lot of stuff. Much love!! xxx

[fiendfriend]

You ever stop for a second to think about your own personal timeline of being aware of your own individual relationship with the self and with sex/sexuality or whatever. Wild. There’s no purpose to this post but its my personal blog and I get to choose the topic of oversharing for the night.

(CW for vague nongraphic discussion of underaged sexuality (my own) since I know that can get weird and uncomfortable) (Also CW for consent issues?  sexual abuse? Maybe?) If you’re on mobile and can’t see read more breaks I am so sorry. 

Everything before age 8: Troubling unchildlike behavior. Trigger warning [redacted] Refuses to do “stupid kid stuff”. Once stayed home from kindergarten because I was absolutely inconsolable over overhearing adult strangers talking about something sexual and not knowing how to expunge the information from my brain.

Sometime after age 8: Lots of acting out in benign ways (not doing homework, stealing booze, general edgelord shit). Rude, vulgar and weird, lots of screaming and general oddball behavior. My parents are finally divorced and my dad takes me to elementary school on a motorcycle. I have my own little leather jacket and helmet. Angry and actively malicious whenever someone from school would want to befriend me or have a crush on me. Everybody is lame and romantic feelings make me sick. Dead set on becoming a drifter as a career choice.

Early preteens/teens: Nervous schoolboy fresh outta catechism who just got done having naïveté hammered back into my skull. Aware of and views pornography, but sex and sexuality make me nervous enough to get the shakes and want to throw up. Still calls mom and dad “mama and daddy”, refuses to use disgusting obscenities like “tits” or “boner”, would never dream of saying anything sexual, much less where someone can hear. Rebelling against my family by rejecting The Dark-Alternative Scene. I’m normcore now.

Somewhere around age 14: emotional/existential crisis after reading Dostoevsky’s The Idiot and Kafka’s The Metamorphosis back to back during my constant trips to detention, questionable friends who regularly violate physical/emotional/sexual boundaries, dabbling with cheap beer and pot smoking, awkwardly promiscuous while still refusing to interact “like that” “for real” with other people. Regularly removes articles of clothing at the local cemetery. Did really fucked up looking body horror pornographic commissions for the other straight-F jailbirds in detention. Dealing with weirdo vaguely abusive Jeffrey Dahmer wannabe before he went all Trigger Warning [redacted]. Also I’m goth now.

High school: MMF poly relationship in freshman/sophomore year was my first “real/serious” relationship somehow??, unceremoniously dumped the other dude after a couple months because we thought he was, quote, “like really lame” (emotionally stupid, no boundaries, needy), stayed dating the girl for about 7 more months before that went down in flames, still awkwardly promiscuous, long term monogamous boyfriend acquired in jr year. JD wannabe would frequently show up unannounced at my school/text me from other numbers/continue to do all those things he did until I ultimately threatened to kill him if he spoke to me again. Troubling unteenagerlike behavior, “suicide is a valid option” mentality. Latched really hard onto the ace/aro labels and online community as a way to avoid processing trauma. 

Those four or five weird vague years after my brain melted and I dropped out of high school: I honestly cannot for the life of me remember what the fuck I was doing here. Drinking a lot, smoking some, awkward sex always, not particularly into any of it. Self-identified as “sex negative”. Somehow partying constantly while still being completely unable to leave the house alone or verbally communicate with people I don’t already know. Weird time. Getting Catholic again, but like, in a religious horror/weird sex fascination kinda way. Had to stop sexual encounters multiple times to go throw up. Definitely said yes more times than I should have out of obligation or ingrained lurking fear.

College: Sex is lame and was never enjoyable. Can comfortably discuss sexual content or weird fetishes with both close friends and vague acquaintances, even though irl stuff is still somewhat nauseating and gives me the shakes. Turns out the nausea and shakes are caused by the gross combination of trauma feelings+arousal, not always in equal parts. Still drawing/writing smut for funsies though. Sometimes I get money off it! Cool! Likes going all creepy psychoanalyst on the root causes of sexual fetishes. Blah blah blah overanalytical, maladaptive whatever. Still kinda goth.