#you admitted in your first ask that the reason you find trans people hard to accept is because you PERSONALLY don't get it-

[ratstuckinamarble]

All right, time to discuss Spell the Beans, this is your spoiler warning. I've previously talked about how I view Draculaura practicing witchcraft this gen as a gay allegory, and considering this episode's theme, I have thoughts. Buckle up, this analysis of sorts will get long. (Also, homophobia will be mentioned)

What kicks the episode off is Drac losing a potion bottle, which gets found and is the reason for Bloodgood calling everyone's parents in to help search. Once again, Toralei wants her to be found out, and with all the talk of witchcraft making Draculaura feel like herself, it being something she won't consider giving up despite it having the potential to cause so many problems for her (Toralei trying to snitch on her, her parents or other students potentially reacting badly, expulsion), frames it like she has no choice about being a witch. Like it's innate (You know. Like being queer). Which also means Toralei is basically trying to out her which is... not great (I like her but I can't deny that- girlie has issues).

A scene soon after that shows Draculaura freaking about about the fact that her dad will be there, specifically to find the witch. What's interesting is that she clearly doesn't intend to keep this a secret from him. Here's some quotes:

"I should have told dad about my witchcraft last weekend when I planned to! But then he saw my report card, and he was so proud. He kept saying how I was following in his bat steps to become the premier first and foremost top monster."

"That's the vampire way. Once something is decided, they don't change it, no matter how silly, outdated, or pfft-y it sounds. That's why it's so hard to tell him I do witchcraft."

Clawdeen asks if she'll tell him when he gets there, to which she says: "In the middle of a witchhunt? No way. As the Pfft, he has to uphold the rules. He'd expell me!"

So what can we gather from this? She was planning to come out to him, most likely because since she views witchcraft as such a core part of herself, something she has to admit to truly be able to be herself around him. She planned it out and everything (as I'm sure a lot of us have before coming out so someone. I sure did), but backed down because he was proud, dissuading her from ruining his positive view of her in that moment. She knows he won't like her being a witch thanks to his outdated views, and yet all that's kept her from telling him sooner was fear of someone so close to her not accepting her (again, relatable).

Now the only reason she won't tell him is because in a school environment, she'd get punished. This is rather bleek, but there are still many places in the world where you can get expelled for being queer, including several schools in the US from what I've gathered, so it's an easy comparison to make.

Dracula holds a presentation on why witchcraft is forbidden, concluding that it's a danger to monsters, to which Draculaura says to herself: "Fine, some witches are bad, but witchcraft isn't inherently bad". It's reminiscent of queer people getting clumped together as a threat to society, children, the family, all that nonsense. People have always loved to take singular incidents of a queer person doing something abhorrent, and taking that as "proof" that all queer folks are a danger and should be shunned, or worse, not be allowed in certain jobs or be persecuted.

When Dracula asks Draculaura to help him find the witch, she immediately goes from happy to see him to uncomfortable. Like getting stuck in yet another conversation with your parents where they go on about their discomfort with gay or trans people or whatever it is that time, she's stuck with him demonizing witchcraft right before her, not knowing he's making her feel awful the whole time.

(A sillier sidenote, but the "Witch-Detector" made me think of the whole gaydar thing. Not relevant though.)

Draculaura ends up telling him the truth because she doesn't want Toralei to get expelled for something she didn't do. And her dad doesn't want to believe her. He lists down reasons that basically say 'you're too respectable to be a witch', but she leaves no room for doubt. And he's extremely disappointed.

She tries to explain to him that his views are skewed by his preconceived notions, and he shouts at her. "So you're breaking the rules for some frivolous hobby? You must give it up, now! Before it ruins your chance to be Pfft!" She tells him she doesn't want to follow in his footsteps. That she didn't know how to tell him because she knew he'd be upset. And he says, that well, of course he is! He treats it like something she can change, when the show never treats that like an option. Telling her he's worried for her future. When she tries to show him the beauty in what she's doing, he just leaves her standing there.

I do appreciate this scene. Many of us aren't lucky enough to have parents who immediately accept their kid after they come out, and the show built up to a bad reaction from him. This was bound to happen. A lot of parents don't want their kids to be gay because of homophobia, yes, but there's also often an element of fear. Of others thinking the same way as them, mistreating them because of it, having fewer chances for your future. It's all reflected in his reaction.

He ends up talking to Apollo (Clawdeen's dad), going on a whole tangent of what his super "handsome friend" (Why do you want him to see you as handsome so bad?🤨) (Also the friend is Dracula), should do if his daughter isn't quite who he thought she was, liking something he sees as dangerous, when he believed she liked "Respectable things" (there that is again), he worries she won't be happy. What I just said. Apollo explains that his kid's happiness is more important than his own opinions on what she's doing, and that she'll be safer if he supports her.

And queer people are safer when they are supported. Mental health wise.

It's enough for him to reconsider. He ends up talking to Draculaura, and they team up to get Toralei out of trouble without revealing Drac as a witch. He tells her that he'll do his best to change the rules.

So what are my thoughts? This was a fairly well executed episode, in my opinion. From my queer allegory perspective, the topic was handled in a manner very remisncent of common real life experiences. Dracula's initial negative reaction was hard to watch, but was the right choice to include it, and while he was rather quick to change his mind, for my taste, I do understand the show not wantig to leave their younger audience on such a sour note. While him only (reluctantly) changing his mind because the witch happened to be someone he loved was hypocritical, it's realistic. We often fear the things we've been taught to shun until it applies to someone close to us. Until it becomes more personal.

Overall, I'm content enough with how this was done. Most of all, since most of Draculaura's friends still don't appear to know by the end of the episode, and witchcraft is still forbidden, I wonder how that will be handeled. I also wonder if Toralei's outing attempts will ever be mentioned and discussed.

That's all I have to say for now. Thank you if you got this far, and please, tell me your thoughts!

[cordycepsfem]

Pageboy Readthrough, Part Eleven

All the previous parts can be found here.

Previously

EP goes to Oregon and learns about Permaculture

EP is extremely closeted

EP gets shingles while making Inception

that's it

Now

Chapter Fifteen

EP dates a woman who is very closeted

they have a wonderful, very closeted relationship

eventually they realize it's not going to work out

later EP sees her at a party with a man

the chapter ends with the line Someone will break your heart but you will break one too.

Chapter Sixteen

we jump back to EP's childhood; she asks to be allowed to play soccer with the coed league one extra year, which is granted

"not precisely meaning it" but telling the truth all the same

EP talks abut moving into puberty and hating periods, needing a bra, etc., which I'm sure literally only affected her and has nothing to do with how almost every other teenage girl on the planet feels

two things here: 1) "other boys" sure EP; 2) "euphoria" - using "euphoria" to describe oneself or one's gender did not start when EP was a kid and even so, kids don't think that way about themselves, as "euphoric"... that's a very adult, usually trans, way of looking at things and it's pretentious. Ask me when I've ever felt "euphoric" about my body and I'll probably say playing roller derby or swimming, or maybe running pushing my sister in a 5K, and even then "euphoric" seems far too grand and, again, pretentious, for what I felt. I felt confident, I felt powerful, I felt happy, and those were the words I'd use.

a third thing, I guess - it's distressing to learn that one's body no longer fits clothes one enjoyed, but life sometimes is like that, and one learns that boys and girls can wear shorts, pants, T-shirts, etc. This period of time didn't mean needing to give up wearing certain clothes or to start wearing other clothes. It just meant EP would have to purchase them from the dreaded "girls" section

EP talks about going to a friend's house and being permitted to wear swim trunks as a kid, which she describes in a tone nearly orgasmic

... y'know girls and women can wear swim trunks too, EP? I swim in them.

this regressive "gender is clothes" gets me every time I read this and for some reason I always forget how dumb it is

EP meets a gay man:

you recognized yourself in a gay man? the kind of gay man who's on TV, so a collection of stereotypes? EP, even now you don't act like that, so what were you recognizing in this man?

(also, does this man know you wrote about him this way? I'd hate to find myself written about in this manner by someone I barely knew - "She was the kind of lesbian they showed on TV sometimes. The way she dressed comfortably, the way she didn't shave her legs, the way she talked about flea markets, the way she listened to Julien Baker, the way she moved... a lesbian person, you know, like a normal human woman." Jesus Christ. I'd want the book burned.)

EP goes to a water park with a friend:

EP I swear to all that is good and holy I need you to stop referring to other people as "queers" without their permission. Don't ask me how I know, but I know this person would not want to be referred to as "a queer" in your book. Why the fuck would you do this? And you weren't "a queer" at age nine, you were a girl with short hair.

And yes, once again, women can wear swim trunks and in certain places go around with their chests out. I wear swim trunks and rash guards to swim. Once again, gender is just clothes.

EP goes into how euphoric she is to not have to wear a shirt and how she can wear swim trunks and swim and feel the sun on her body or whatever.

be careful with your scars, sunburns will fuck them up

I will admit here that this part, while so weirdly enraging and confusing like the rest of the book, made me feel unhappy and jealous for a couple of reasons. First is that my own BDD and dysphoria have made it hard to want to look at my own body or feel neutral, let alone euphoric, about it. When I'm swimming I don't care, because my body's in the water and it's doing things, but in general I hate everything around it - getting dressed in the Y locker room, peeling off my heavy, stuck swim clothes afterwards, etc. I am deeply jealous of someone who feels so comfortable in their own skin that way.

Second I'm unhappy because I wonder how things would have turned out if I'd been born just a few years later. I'm too old for a school-age diagnosis of autism, too old for knowing what "lesbian" meant in elementary school, too old for discussions about gender amongst my friends. I don't like to think that I would have been pushed in the direction of "trans'ing my gender" if I was among the youths now, but I don't know who I'd be, either.

I am glad that no matter how much I hate my own body from time to time, I know that no matter how much I change it, I'll still always be me. I'll still always be female. My body is more than the nebulous, unnecessary concept of "gender" - it allows me to do the things I want, to love the people I care about, to show up for work - my body is me. I have time to learn how to love my body for what it is.

This book makes me fucking maudlin.

[caliginouscreature]

If you may have a fictotype, how do you tell your “noemata” apart from strongly-held headcanons or projecting?

Psychological nonhumanity is a hot topic for all kinds of debates and discussions, and understandably so.  There’s tons of room for variation, and infinite possible reasons and presentations for it from copinglinking to fictherianthropy.  But with non/alterhumanity of any origin, lack of “memories” is a known struggle with those wondering whether or not they may “count” (and is something I intend to dedicate a separate post to talking about later).  This is where a new community term, “noema” (pronounced “no-ee-muh”), was introduced to possibly fill in an area of ambiguity left in the wake of such worries.  It’s a term left rather vague on purpose, making it useful for describing many kinds of feelings.

It is often described as feeling like “just knowing” something about your ’type, whether it’s something about their body, past, home, opinions... could be anything!  But, in some circumstances, how can you tell the difference between true noemata, and fan theories one has dwelled upon so long and hard that they just “feel right”?  Can you trick yourself into thinking you “just know” something by forgetting how long you’ve actually thought about it?  Is “feeling right” all it can take to count?

In this thinking-out-loud post, I’d like to point at the character of Snufkin from the Moomins franchise-- a character who seems like a great example to use due both to how I myself find him relatable, and how I’ve seen other Moomins fans receive and interpret him through fan content.

Isn’t he spiffy!

There is no other fandom I’ve yet been in where so many of the fans (at least in the english-speaking one, that I myself was in) had never actually interacted with the bulk of the source material.  Sure, some watched the ’90s anime on youtube, but large quantities of fans never touched the books or comics (even those that have official english versions, pirated or not), or sometimes even only got their material through fanart and fanfic.  A quantifiable amount of english-language Moomins fanworks from around 2019 are going off of nothing but what “feels right”.

Now, this isn’t just me looking for an excuse to whine about the shallowness of the Moomins fandom, or me trying to invalidate people who don’t really interact with the sources of their ’types.  But in my opinion, it’s a comparison I can’t help but make.  How far can you basically just go off of vibes?  How do you know what counts?

It’s like, fascinatingly easy to get your brain used to a certain headcanon.  Even some diehard Moomins fans-- ones who actually do go to the trouble of digging up and consuming obscure canon material-- could admit it’s easy to forget that Snufkin isn’t confirmed to be canonically transgender.  “Trans Snufkin” is an extremely popular headcanon in the english Moomins fandom, and most who hold it, myself sometimes included, would tell you it’s because it simply “feels right”.  It’s to the point that many consider it a vital part of how they write and read Snufkin!

Projecting onto a character you see a bit of yourself in is also pretty easy to do, by accident or otherwise.  Most Moomins fans I see doing this do it with Moomintroll, but it’s arguably even more obvious when it’s done with Snufkin.  I once saw a fic (which I won’t link, so as not to possibly get them teased), which the author admitted was written as a form of vent art, where Snufkin hated coffee... but if you read Comet in Moominland, where Snufkin is introduced, one of the very first things he ever says is asking for coffee, he likes it so much!  Something similar goes for fics that make Snufkin speak any swear words, a thing he is confirmed to dislike.  How much of this is active self-indulgence, and how much is due to it “feeling right” to the author?  I try and notice when I may be projecting on a character or not, because I find it to be useful in my work, but we can’t all be so self-aware (and who knows, I may be less self-aware than I think!).

Back to fictotypy... I am well aware that one’s ’type ID isn’t always going to be a 1:1 to how it is in canon.  To compare the phenomenon to fictives, I’ve met multiple manifestations of the same character across different systems, and none of them are identical (even if there are multiple fictives of the same character within one system!)!  If someone turns out to be a Snufkin, and they can’t force themself to like coffee, that doesn’t make them any less a Snufkin.  They may just be a Snufkin from an adaptation where his opinions on coffee are unclear, or a Snufkin from an AU!  ... or maybe they just hate coffee that much, hehe.

But how can a Snufkin-- or someone who may be of any character/species ID-- tell their possible noemata apart from some other similar non-noemata thing?  When I come to a “headcanon” or “interpretation” of something from fiction, it often feels like a process of going “Hey, it’d be cool or interesting if...” or “It could make sense that...” and then pondering and scanning canon material to possibly back it up so that it can sound legit enough to not ping as OOC to an onlooker (at least if I explain it, depending).  Ponder any of these long enough, and they can wind up “feeling right”, in a way, even if I took an active role in figuring out how they might work and know they may not be truly canon. Are my numerous theories and headcanons about the species that the Groke belongs to that have little-to-no canon backup the result of me being very autistic and having an immense passion for worldbuilding, or could their combination of how I relate to the Groke herself make them evidence of noemata for a possible ID?  When I get offended if Snufkin is written or treated a certain way in fanworks, is it just me being a stickler for canon compliance and feeling hurt when traits in him I relate to are demonized, or could it also be a sign I may be a Snufkin?  I’m already pleased that I look a bit like him in real life, but I’m not sure I feel if I am a Snufkin, as it’s not really as intense a desire as some of my other possible IDs... folks argue that such IDs need not be intense or constant and can be experienced casually, but how can I tell the difference?

When, as beings with human brains wired to delight in such pattern recognition and ascribing meanings to the like, can anyone tell the difference?  How do I tell my noemata apart from what may just be thoughts about my possible IDs that I like to have?  As someone who’s questioning several possible IDs and is uncertain about ’most all of them, it’s hard for me to know the differences that define this.

A fun little question to any artists with ’types from fiction, to close this post off with: When you write or draw fanart of the character or species you may ID with to post in public, do you base their interpretation off of what you feel are your noemata, or do you tend to lean more to what will be more definitely canon-compliant?  Why or why not?  If you do the latter, does it make you question your ““validity””?  Is making fanworks of your ID a pretty personal experience, or is it more of a separate thing you can do for fun?  Does it vary?

[fite-club]

genuine q, i don’t really have a stake in internet discourse so idk what’s going on. i saw the term “transandrophobia” for the first time today and saw you commenting so i scrolled through your blog. i saw you replied to an ask with ``their answer to “so which is it, are transmascs oppressed because we’re seen as men or seen as women?” is “whichever works best for my argument in that moment”`` which i’m kind of confused by. cause like i can see it varying on a case by case basis, if someone excludes a trans man from a queer space for passing too well then like i get that i don’t really think that’s oppression but just hurtful to be excluded from gay spaces. and if they’re perceived as a woman by someone else and experience misogyny like that happens too. i’m just confused on what the argument is, i’m not tryna be dismissive just trying to understand what’s like Going On with all the transandrophobia business. is it that people are claiming to be oppressed for being men is that the issue? just want some nuance cause i can’t grasp it from the random threads i keep finding

yeah parsing through “transandrophobia” discourse is hard because there’s not a consistently used definition or reasoning. the issue is, yeah, people claiming that they’re oppressed for being transmasc specifically (not not just for being trans). the fact that transmascs can be treated as men or women depending on the situation is proof in of itself that “transandrophobia” cannot exist, because the transphobia is motivated in different ways. we experience transphobia when we’re treated like women, and we experience misogyny when we’re treated lesser because of that. systems of oppression that target men like “androphobia” or “misandry” do not exist. the only people who actually hold bigoted views against men are radfems and TERFs*, who are not a majority capable of enacting any structural oppression against men. “anti-masculinity” is not a problem. a trans man might be excluded from a queer group for being “too masc”, but so would a transfem who doesn’t pass. every instance of discrimination against transmascs (besides specific details) is something also experienced by transfems or butch/gnc cis women. because the discrimination comes from misogyny and transphobia, not “transandrophobia”.

the reason why this matters at all is because it’s important to address transmisogyny in the trans community and “transandrophobia truthers” deny that transmascs have any kind of privilege over transfems. i speculate that the reason why terms like “transmisandry” or “transandrophobia” exist in the first place is because transmascs didn’t like admitting that they’re TME (transmisogyny exempt). TME and TMA were terms used by the transfem community to denote the differences in transfem and transmasc experiences. because they ARE different— the defining factor being gender. men have privilege over women; trans men are men and trans women are women; trans men have power over trans women. transfems get called baeddels and transandrophobes just for pointing that out, but it’s the truth. it’s gross seeing other trans guys deny that and avoid taking any accountability whatsoever— we aren’t incapable of being transmisogynistic just because we’re also trans.

*if someone seems to seriously believe that most people hate men and think of them all as brutish predators, if someone is trying to explain how everyone else in the world distrusts men both cis and trans, if someone is saying they’re tired of hearing that transmascs don’t face any oppression at all… that someone has too many radfems and terfs in their life/social circles. these are FRINGE, extremist, reactionary beliefs and they DO NOT reflect the community as a whole. if someone feels like these opinions are the norm, it’s because it’s their norm, which they don’t realize is a bubble.

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

Nia just needed a friend to do a hard mall trip. Trying out dresses. For a formal dance. And hey, maybe Lena and Kara are mad at each other but... She just needs Lena okay?

When Lena receives a call from an unknown number, she almost ignores it. But just enough people spread her phone number that she answers it on the off chance it might be someone who needs her.

“Lena Luthor, how can I help you?”

“Lena, please don’t hang up.”

The voice is familiar, but Lena can’t place it until the voice continues.

“It’s Nia. Nia Nal? And I know--” Lena almost hangs up right then-- not because it’s Nia, but because Nia treads dangerously close to a subject Lena is dead set on avoiding. Almost. “I know you have no reason to take my call, but… I need your help.”

Lena almost hangs up. She doesn’t.

“What do you need?”

---

The crisis, Lena learns, is that Nia has been given the assignment of her life covering the Golden Globes ceremony being hosted in downtown National City, but has nothing even remotely appropriate to wear. The mundanity of it all is so far from what Lena expects that it’s long moments before the words fully register.

“Uh, Lena…?”

“I’m here,” Lena says quickly, clearing her throat. She leans forward in her chair, rattling off an address. “Meet me there tomorrow at 11am.”

The next day, a few minutes after eleven, Nia walks up to Lena outside of Sylvie with hesitation all over her face. “Lena?”

Lena tucks her phone away and turns towards Nia with a professional but bright grin. “Nia, you made it.”

“Uhm, yeah actually… I kinda thought I’d gotten lost…”

Lena looks at her in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Lena, I can’t afford anything on this boulevard, are you crazy??”

Oh.

“You’re not paying,” Lena says simply.

Wide eyes blink at her in shock. “What? No! No, Lena, I can’t ask you to do that--”

“I’m offering.”

“Look, I was thinking we could just go to the mall--”

“The mall.”

Nia quails under Lena’s judgement, and Lena softens.

“Nia, you are about to be on the red carpet, covering an event that could catapult your career into the stratosphere. I think that warrants something a little more than what a department store can offer.”

“But…” Nia continues to protest, but uncertainty colors her features, and Lena knows she’s slipped under her guard. Carefully, Lena places a hand on Nia’s wrist.

“I won’t force you to accept what I’m offering,” she says gently. “But calling a Luthor for help means calling for a Luthor solution-- and nothing says Luthor more than shopping at the best boutique in town.”

Nia nods, but she ducks her chin with a swallow. “It’s just…”

“Just what?”

“I don’t want you to think that’s why I called, you know?” Nia expels a sigh, working a harried hand through her hair. “It’s just that Kara was supposed to come with me for moral support, but she’s had to cancel four times and the ceremony is in three days and if Andrea hears one more time that I don’t have a dress, she’s going to kill me…”

“Nia,” Lena says softly. Nia stops, and meets Lena’s gaze with a hesitant one of her own. “I would never think you were calling for a hand out. I’m offering.” Nia still looks uncertain, but Lena holds her gaze. “You asked for help… so let me help.”

Nia considers her words, studying Lena carefully. Finally, she wraps her arms around herself with a steadying sigh. “If you’re sure…”

“I’m sure.”

Nia follows a few paces behind as Lena turns and approaches the door to the shop, lingering to let Lena be the one to press the buzzer to be allowed in. But as they near, the door opens for them, ready and waiting to admit them.

Luthors don’t use buzzers.

“Welcome to Sylvie.” A pair of well groomed attendants relieve them of their purses, exchanging their bags for a couple flutes of champagne offered by a third.

“Thank you,” Lena replies easily, well versed in the practice. Nia fumbles a step behind, her movements stiff and uncertain. Instead of moving directly into the belly of the store as she usually did, Lena lingers, allowing Nia the chance to take in the shop for the first time. The showroom looks much like any other, as could be glimpsed through the windows, styled with clean lines and immaculately dressed mannequins. The true Sylvie experience, however, happens further in, beyond the curtains that separate the dressing rooms from the rest of the store.

“If you’ll follow me, ladies, I’ll show you to your dressing room.”

Lena wonders what Nia expected as they approached one of the curtained off areas. Perhaps a cramped alcove like the hollywood thrift stores shown in coming-of-age films, where your elbows knocked the walls as you changed and you’d be lucky to find a stool to put your own clothes. Certainly it isn’t the plush, spacious room that awaits them, if Nia’s wide eyes are anything to go by.

Charnelle waits for them at the curtain. “Welcome, ladies,” she greets, parting the curtain so that Lena and Nia can slip inside. “Lena, lovely to see you again.”

“And you,” Lena returns.

“I’m Charnelle,” she introduces herself to Nia. “Wonderful to meet you. I’ll be assisting the two of you today.”

“Thankyousomuch,” Nia says in a rush, her shoulders tight as she shakes Charnelle’s offered hand.

Charnelle allows the curtains to close behind them, isolating them in their own little pocket of divine luxury. Lena settles herself on the central chaise lounge, folding her legs elegantly before her. Nia perches on the edge beside her, her gaze flicking to the small boudoir in one corner and another curtain that shields the actual changing area. Inside there, Lena knows Nia will find a plush bench to sit on as she undresses, and gold hangers to hold her clothes while she tries on various gowns. It’s designed to be beyond comfortable, a place where one could spend hours-- and lots and lots of money.

“So, what do you have for us today, Lena? Another benefit gala to dazzle?”

“Actually,” Lena replies, “Miss Nal here is covering the Golden Globes this week for CatCo Worldwide.”

“How exciting!” Charnelle rounds on Nia. “And what are you looking for in your gown?”

Caught with a mouthful of champagne, Nia freezes, then swallows audibly. “Um…” she coughs out. “Something nice? I probably shouldn’t be outdressing the stars or anything, so nothing too crazy?” She shrugs. “I don’t know, exactly.”

“Charnelle,” Lena intercedes, “could you bring us some formal options in black, maroon, or blue? Floor length, of course.”

Charnelle nods, beaming. “Absolutely.” She gives Nia a wink. “She has your colors nailed, honey. What are your measurements?”

Nia stares at them both. “Uh. A six, usually?”

“They’ll need your measurements to ensure a proper fit,” Lena delivers gently. “Do you mind if Charnelle--?”

“I’m trans!” Nia blurts, her chinks coloring a solid ear-to-ear pink. “Sorry,” she adds quietly. “But-- yeah. Just so you know.”

Lena stares, surprised more by the outburst than its content, but Charnelle takes it in stride. “So am I, baby girl,” she responds smoothly. “That doesn’t mean you don’t deserve to have a dress that fits.”

Breathing a sigh of relief, Nia finally, finally relaxes. She offers a shaky grin. “Okay. Yeah. Let’s do this.”

Charnelle gives Nia’s wrist a squeeze on her way to the boudoir to pull a tape measure from the top drawer. While she’s busy, Lena catches Nia’s eye and lifts her glass in a silent cheers of support. Nia rewards her with a small smile, before Charnelle returns and makes quick work of measuring Nia’s bust, waist and hips.

“All right!” Charnelle chirps, wrapping up her tape. “I’ll be right back with some options. You two stay here and get comfortable, all right? I’ll be right back.”

She disappears, and Nia all but collapses onto the chaise next to Lena. “I can’t believe I did that,” she groans.

Lena pats her on the knee. “You’re all right. Sylvie only gets my business because they know the value of discretion.”

“Yeah.” Nia lifts her head with a hum, surveying the dressing room once more. “This is nice. Thank you for talking me into it.”

Lena smirks. “Just wait.”

As if on cue, the curtains part to admit not Charnelle, but the woman who’d offered them their drinks. This time, her tray holds an array of small finger sandwiches. “Refreshments?”

“Oh, wow!” Nia exclaims, quickly helping herself to three. “Okay, yeah. I could get used to this.”

Lena grins, snaring a cucumber sandwich for herself. “Thank you. And another round, if you could,” she adds, seeing Nia’s empty glass.

The woman nods. “Of course.”

When she has disappeared again, the dressing room fills with quiet, and Lena realizes that she doesn’t have a clue what to say. She’s gone shopping with her mother, and with Andrea, and in both cases the conversation flowed easily, for better or for worse. But she’s never been shopping with a girl several years her junior, and never one in the middle of Lena’s biggest heartbreak.

“It happened the last time I went shopping for a dress too,” Nia says, breaking the silence. “The anxiety about… you know. I guess something about formal wear brings out the worst of it.”

Unsure of how to respond, Lena looks at her. “When was the last time?”

Nia sighs. “Prom. I’d transitioned by then, and most people were used to me, but I didn’t have a date, and part of me just internalized it as a fixture of me not being girly enough, and not, you know, the fact I didn’t know how to talk to boys, let alone date them. I didn’t even know if it was worth it to go at all, and I just-- started crying, right there in the dress shop.”

“What happened then?” Lena asks gently.

Nia smiles fondly. “My mom. She just hugged me, and told me how proud she was to have such a beautiful, confident daughter. It was sort of embarrassing at the time, but… it was something I needed to hear, you know?”

She pauses then as the server returns with their champagne. Afte the woman dips out again, Lena nudges her. “And did you ever find a dress?”

Nia snorts, nodding. “Yeah. Like, two minutes after I calmed down I found my dream dress. And my friends and I had a blast at prom, so I’m glad I went after all.”

“Good,” Lena murmurs, sipping her drink. “Well, I can’t promise anything about a dream dress, but I’ll call it a win if we get out of here without any tears.”

“Cheers to that,” Nia concurs, lifting her own glass for a deep sip.

In that moment, Charnelle returns, wheeling a short cart of long dresses along with her.

“All right, ladies-- who’s ready to see some gowns?”

---

Nia settles on a bias-cut gown of sky blue, accented with beaded embroidery at the bust and straps. It may not have qualified for dream status, but it’s perfect for the Globes, and Lena can tell Nia is excited by the time they step back out onto the street, garment bag draped over her arm.

“Thank you, again,” Nia offers, hiking her purse higher on her shoulder. “You really didn’t have to do all this, especially with how weird things are right now. I know it probably wasn’t easy to say yes when I called last night.”

Lena blinks. It honestly hadn’t occurred to her to say no. “Nia?”

“Yeah?”

“Why did you call me?” It’s her turn now to shift uncomfortably on her feet. “I’m always happy to help, but… as you say, things are weird. Why me?”

“Honestly?” Nia asks. Lena nods. “You remind me of my mom. I can’t begin to tell you how or why, but you do. And the thing is… my mom was probably the kindest person I’ve ever known. So-- if you reminded me of her, I figured you were a pretty safe bet. And the worst you could do was hang up on me, so…”

Right.

Lena nods, her throat locking painfully around a sudden lump in her throat. Forcing a smile, she clears her throat. “Okay. Well… I’m glad I was able to help. Are you okay to get home?”

Nia nods easily. “Yeah, I’ll just catch the bus. Thank you again. This was really nice, and it was really good to see you.”

Lena nods, but before she can turn away, Nia catches her by the wrist.

“I mean it, Lena. I owe you one. If you ever need anything…”

Lena turns her wrist, allowing her hand to settle into Nia’s palm. Giving it a squeeze, Lena offers her a smile.

“I know who to call.”

// prompts are closed

[massivedrickhead]

ive been obsessed with the Olympics and can totally picture beca being an Olympic skateboarder for some reason? please could you do bechloe at the Olympics?

Read on AO3

Chloe knew that the cameras would find her in the stand, so she tried to keep the fear and, let’s admit it, lust off her face.

The fans loved hers and Beca’s relationship, and she knew the commentators would make a point to mention it.

How often did it happen that two Olympic athletes fell in love with each other? Yes, the Olympic village was usually a sex fest, but that didn’t always translate into long lasting relationships.

Not that Beca and Chloe had met in the Olympic village, for one this was the first time that skateboarding was an Olympic event. They had met at a party almost five years ago, introduced by mutual friends, and now here they were. Engaged to be married.

Chloe, at her second Olympic Games, had secured herself 2 medals for swimming - a silver medal in women’s 50m freestyle and a bronze in the 4x100m relay - and now Beca was about to skate in her first Olympic final.

And as calm and collected as Beca looked, rolling her board back and forth beneath her foot, Chloe couldn’t have been more nervous.

And watching Beca lift the bottom of her shirt to wipe the sweat from her eyes, showing off her toned stomach in the process, her tattooed arms visible thanks to her rolled up sleeves, Chloe couldn’t have been more turned on.

Chloe saw her crack a joke at Emily - the other American competitor - and then it was her turn to skate.

There would be three runs, the highest score wins. Beca would be the last to skate each time.

She watched Beca wave at the crowd, and roll her shoulders back a few times.

She had come off her board a few months ago, and Chloe knew her shoulder was still giving her trouble.

And then she was off, moving quickly around the Park course.

A DJ was playing music, but Chloe knew Beca had her own AirPods in, hidden under her helmet.

The commentator was calling out the tricks as she did them, but Chloe couldn’t follow along.

She knew there were some grinds, some flips, some grab tricks, but if she’s honest she’d never quite understood all the names of all the tricks. She’d tried to learn, and Beca had tried to explain it, but it just never sunk in.

Beca’s first run was almost at an end and then the board got away from her, and she hit the ground, skidding on her knees.

Chloe heard her shout of frustration from the stands, so she knew the cameras picked it up too.

Beca got up, grabbed her board, and skated out, back towards the other competitors.

They all patted her back, and Emily gave her a hug and said something that made her laugh.

Chloe watched as she took off her helmet and took a drink, her eyes never leaving the scoreboard.

Her score was okay, not medal winning, but not terrible. Beca nodded to herself, and then shrugged at the camera when she realised it was on her.

Sensing an opportunity, she picked up her board and flashed her ‘Trans Lives Matter’ sticker at the camera, hoping it got on TV before it cut away to the next competitor.

From the stands, Chloe continued to watch her with pride. She watched her talking with her coach and joking with the other athletes, and all she wanted to do was run down there and kiss her.

“Which is exactly why you’ll be in the stands and not sitting with the coaches,” Beca had told her the night before. “How am I meant to concentrate if I know you’re there waiting to kiss me?”

Beca’s second run was up, and this time Beca aimed her wave directly at Chloe. She made a heart sign with her hands that Chloe returned eagerly, before blowing her a kiss.

A few years ago, Beca might have complained that Chloe was ruining her street-cred, but she was past the point of caring about that now.

Her second run went much better, and she stayed on her board the entire time.

Her score shot her into first place, gold medal position.

Chloe was on her feet screaming and cheering as she watched Beca get mobbed by the other skaters. Emily was practically jumping on her back despite being a solid foot taller than her, and the American fans around Chloe were drowning out the commentators.

Once the cheering had calmed down, Chloe saw Beca wipe her face on her shirt again, this time to get rid of tears, not sweat.

This was more than Beca had expected. More than any of them had expected. She wasn’t predicted to be in the top 5, let alone gold medal position.

Chloe knew Beca was aiming for bronze at best. The two kids from Japan were going to dominate it, according to Beca, and Emily was predicted to place higher than her.

Watching the other girls skate was now almost as nerve wracking as watching Beca skate.

Predictably, the two Japanese girls crushed it, but Beca was still holding onto bronze.

On her final run, Emily fell, and remained in fourth place. Beca gave her a tight hug, and a small kiss on the side of the head. Chloe knew better than to feel jealous. They had been best friends for longer than Chloe had known either of them, and they saw each other as sisters.

Finally, it was time for Beca’s final run.

“Come on Beca,” Chloe muttered, not bothering to keep the fear from her face now.

Beca had a shot at gold, she was only a couple of points away. Chloe watched as she glanced over to her coach and nodded, and her stomach twisted.

That nod meant pull out all the stops. It meant trying tricks that were a bit more risky. More dangerous but, if she pulled them off, more impressive.

Beca was guaranteed a medal, but now she was about to find out which colour.

Chloe held her breath as Beca dropped into the course.

It was all going well. Beca was executing her tried and tested tricks without fault, but Chloe knew she wouldn’t be satisfied with that.

She watched as Beca shot up into the air, her knees close to her chest, her hand on her board, as she spun in mid air.

And then as Beca came down, the board slipped from underneath her and she fell backwards, her helmeted head hitting the concrete wall of the drop. Hard.

Chloe didn’t remember standing up and gripping the edge of the railings as she waited for Beca to get up. She also didn’t remember running down the stairs of the stands, pushing past people in order to get onto the course.

She definitely didn’t know how she got down the surprisingly intimidating drop to where Beca was currently lying, but she was at Beca’s side quicker than she thought possible.

She was awake, blinking slowly against the bright sunlight, but she didn’t seem to register that Chloe was there.

“Bec?”

“Don’t move her!”

Chloe turned to see Beca’s coach and the medic hurrying towards them.

“Ow,” Beca muttered.

“Beca!” Chloe said, tears of relief flowing down her cheeks. “You scared me, you asshole!”

With the help of the medic, Beca sat up, and they gently took off her helmet. “I didn’t get gold then?” She asked as they shone a small torch in her eyes

“No,” Chloe said, half crying, half laughing. “But you did make me look like a crazy person. How the fuck am I gonna be able to get out of here?”

“Hey, there are kids about,” Beca said, grinning and gesturing to the other competitors who were looking at her with genuine fear in their eyes. “And TV cameras. You’re gonna get a reputation as the bad girl of competitive swimming.”

“Shut up,” Chloe said. Now that the medics had moved out of the way, Chloe cupped Beca’s face in her hands. “Are you okay?”

Beca shrugged. “I fell off. No biggie.”

“Are you okay, though?”

“Well that depends, how many of you are there meant to be?” Beca asked, before letting out a snort of laughter at the panic on Chloe’s face. “I’m kidding! I’m fine. I’m just hurting a lot, all over.”

“Can you stand, Beca?” The medic asked.

“I think so,” Beca said. Chloe stood and held out her hands for Beca to take. Beca did, and Chloe pulled her to her feet. “You’re so strong.”

“Thank you,” Chloe said.

Beca was a little wobbly on her feet, but she still made sure to wave at the crowd and give them a thumbs up.

“Did I just win a fucking bronze medal at the Olympics?” She asked Chloe quietly, watching the fans cheering after she and Chloe were helped out of the course.

“Yep,” Chloe said, allowing herself to relax a little. “That’s really very sexy of you.”

“I know right?” Beca said, grinning as she draped her arms around Chloe’s shoulder again. “I’ve always said bronze was the sexiest medal.”

“And silver, obviously,” Chloe said as someone wrapped an American flag over their shoulders.

“Obviously.”

“Do you have your Pride flag with you?” Chloe asked.

“Obviously,” Beca said again, grinning as she pulled Chloe over to her bag so she could fish it out.

“Can the cameras see us here?”

“Dunno.”

“Eh, who cares,” Chloe said, before pulling Beca into a bruising kiss.

[tendercoretroglodyke]

... I’m interested in legitimately gay Reese (I assume one piece of evidence is “look at what they’re doing and tell me you’re not gay”)

okay this is like 2 days late but this is why reese malcolminthemiddle is legitimately gay:

(side note: did anyone need a queer media thesis paper or something... I am willing to share lmao)

so none of this is like... rock solid evidence or anything but I need to believe at least one main character of a show is gay and/or trans to maintain interest and reese is the most plausible gay character. also it’s early 2000′s so he just gets a lot of vaguely homophobic jokes lmao

first of all, yes, the biggest piece of evidence he’s gay is those lines from that episode I quoted the other day--thinking malcolm is gay, he tries to show his support by giving him a gay porno: “’Naught Pool Boys 3!’ I watched 10 or 12 of these, and this one seems to have the most stuff you guys like.” and when malcolm says he isn’t gay, reese responds “Malcolm. Check out what those guys are doing in that movie, and THEN tell me you’re not gay.”-- so, 1) reese sat down and watched like a dozen gay porn movies to ““find a good one for his gay brother”” and 2) he thinks malcolm would reconsider his heterosexuality if he watched what was in that movie, implying that HE reconsidered his sexuality after watching that movie, or at the very least found it hot

in the same episode, the character tricking malcolm into thinking reese is gay lists the following as evidence: he obsesses over his hair and his looks, loves his gourmet cooking, has a bunch of magazines covered in comically muscular men, and that he’s angry and acts like a jerk because he’s “dealing with something weird and confusing.” now obviously, the obsession with hair/looks can be chalked up to the fact that he’s a teenage boy, and there’s nothing inherently gay about enjoying cooking. the dozen magazines of muscle-bound men could certainly be taken as gay evidence, though, and it IS established in the show that his entire bully persona is his way of masking his inner feelings and insecurities. there’s literally a whole episode where he & malcolm realize they have no friends because they act like little shits to push people away because they’re afraid of rejection and/or abandonment from their peers. they ostracize themselves before they can be ostracized by the other students at school. I could probably write a whole other essay on reese’s psyche tbqh lmao there’s a shocking amount there!!

of the brothers who are actually old enough to be attracted to girls (reese, malcolm, and francis), he shows the least interest. now bear with me here. you might be thinking, “well, yeah, it’s malcolm’s show, we’re not gonna see things from other people’s perspective!” but that is actually surprisingly untrue, the show is very much equally shown from each family members’ perspectives. starting about s2, when malcolm is in early middle school, he starts getting crushes on girls and pursuing them. francis goes after a few women in the first couple seasons and then marries a woman we see a lot throughout the show. 

in the roughly... 130?? episodes I have watched so far, nearly all of reese’s “interest” in girls involve either: competition with malcolm, genuinely just liking her as a friend, or some completely ulterior motive. the only exception to this I can think of is in the early seasons where he has a crush on a cheerleader and tries to get on her good side by joining the cheerleading squad, which the writers clearly set up as a way to make gay jokes about reese. let me give you a few examples of his relationships with girls

the first relationship we see him in is with a “stupid girl” that malcolm tried (and failed) to date, and the main reason they get together is that they think on the same wavelength and genuinely seem to enjoy hanging out. they take breaks from their bro chats to make out every once in a while. eventually he gets her to break up with him because he doesn’t want to go to the school dance with her (he doesn’t want to go at all). years later, he’s dating some girl we meet for like 5 minutes, before he goes to confess to her that she’s the first girl he’s ever loved. she then breaks up with him. he’s sad, but taking it fairly well. he’s about to leave when he sees malcolm hiding under the bed, and learns that he stole his girlfriend. he then runs away to join the army. he was clearly MUCH more upset that his brother stole his girlfriend than he was that his girlfriend broke up with him. there are many more instances of him and malcolm competing for a girl’s affections, and he seems mostly motivated by the competition itself.

in addition to “stupid girl,” he also manufactures an “attraction” to his female army buddy in the last season. the premise of this episode is that his old army buddy (a girl he play-wrestles with and insults like he would his own brothers) comes to visit him, and malcolm convinces reese that she’s attracted to him, and that reese’s nervousness at learning that fact is proof he’s in love with her. there’s a misunderstanding where reese asks her if she has certain “feelings” and she says she does, but what she ACTUALLY means is that she has a crush on reese’s MOM. she’s a lesbian. reese later propositions her (saying he’s saved his virginity for this--he’s probably about 18 here), and when she says omg no im gay, he is HUGELY relieved they can go back to being friends. CLASSIC mlm/wlw friendship moment. 

there’s an episode where these cute girls pick up reese (& nerds) to kiss in front of their boyfriends to make them jealous. reese is all for it, and when malcolm argues that it’s not worth his dignity and the beating he’ll get from the girl’s boyfriend, reese counters that that’s WHY he wants to do this--he’s completely invisible at school, and thinks getting beaten up for kissing some guy’s girlfriend will at least make him known around school. at no point does he indicate he’s actually attracted to this girl, and when it comes time to kiss her, he finds the weakest excuse to run away at the last minute. 

im not gonna list all of these but there’s more lmao

the following is a random assortment of one-off gay jokes and out-of-context lines with gay reese implications, often homophobically bc its early 2000′s writing:

says “I’m gay” to a girl to give malcolm a better shot at her

(again in competition with malcolm) tries to flirt with a girl by spraying milk in her face as the punchline to a joke, which is. well. hm. self-sabotaging, to say the least!!

Reese: “Do you think it’s right to totally change who you are and turn your back on EVERYTHING you believe in, just to impress a hot guy??” [his dad gives a long, blank stare, before asking:] “...Burt Reynolds hot, or Sting hot?”

“YEAH I like clouds! I call them sky kittens :)” (I just think that one’s sweet!)

“Look, Christie, here’s the thing. When I first met you, I was just messing around. But we’ve gotten so close that, now... I really like you! I can’t keep this up anymore. I’m not the person you think I am. I’ve been pretending since the day I met you. It’s so hard having to constantly cover my tracks to keep my story straight... and I don’t WANT to anymore! I’m tired of living this lie! I’m done with it. I’m sorry.”

he catfishes some guy to blackmail him, but is implied to continue the flirtation even after the catfishing/blackmail is revealed

reese is, technically, married to a man. this particular plot point is played as a joke and manages to be both racist and homophobic, so I won’t go into it. but I believe he is still married to that man. technically.

reese takes care of a huge box full of caterpillars until they pupate and become beautiful butterflies. I feel like there’s some kind of gay coming out metaphor here somewhere.

I think there are a couple other times where he comments on a guy’s attractiveness but I couldn’t find specific instances.

In conclusion: Reese is a deeply repressed gay kid who was socialized SO thoroughly as an early 2000′s straight boy that, despite his attraction for men and his obvious compulsory heterosexuality, he still cannot admit to himself that he is gay even as he enters adulthood. Furthermore, his subconscious frustration about this fact is turned outward to form the “schoolyard bully” costume he uses to mask his insecurities and keep others from getting too close to him. 

Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk. I could be convinced to come back for another talk about how Dewey is trans or about how each and every member of that family is neurodivergent in entirely different ways. Assuming anyone has read this far in the first place!!

[theydjarin]

dincobb server got this on my mind, so dincobb where Din settles down in Mos Pelgo in some capacity with Cobb and starts experimenting with different styles of clothing

Thank you for the prompt!! This is longer than I planned, and rated M.

Featuring cross dressing, trans masc Din, but also general gender fluidity that neither of these two have a name for.

[still accepting trans prompts for any din ship]

It's one of those days where Din wakes up bored. It's his day off from his duties in Mos Pelgo, during his month off from his duties on Mandalore, and he's bored, fingers itching and mind racing. But he doesn't feel like going outside and being around people, confronted with the small talk and gossip of a small town. So instead, he finds himself looking through the nooks and crannies inside of his and Cobb's home. It's mostly items he's seen or expected, miscellaneous vaporator parts, countless ribbed red shirts and scarves, his own armor, and the like.

Eventually, he makes his way to the second, less-used dresser, not expecting much different. He doesn't even realize what he's seeing at first, assuming the red is just yet another scarf, until he notices the fabric looks different. A different color, yes, but it also looks... softer, more fragile. His hands reach out before he can think about it, and he's right, the fabric is incredibly smooth and soft, so smooth that he almost thinks he shouldn't touch it, that his hands will damage the fabric from how much roughness they've seen throughout his life.

He doesn't damage the fabric, however, and he pulls it from the drawer, quickly realizing it's a red dress. It's such a contrast to the rough flight suit and unyielding armor he's worn nearly every day for his entire adult life that Din doesn't even know what to do with himself. He feels his heart pounding in his chest for reasons unknown, and he just can't stop touching the fabric, resisting the urge to press his face up into it or to hold it up against his body, maybe to imagine--

His train of thought is interrupted by the door to the bedroom opening, his partner walking in and taking in the scene in front of him.

The look on Cobb's face isn't angry or embarrassed, but it's... shy, shyer than Din has ever seen before, and it's then that Din realizes just why Cobb has this dress in the first place.

"Hey," Din says softly, his lips twitching up into a small smile. He can tell the winds have been kicking up all morning, judging by Cobb's wind-blown hair and the distinct line of sand and dirt above where he would have been covering his mouth with his scarf.

Cobb walks closer to him. "Hey yourself," he says, putting his hand over Din's over the fabric he's grasping.

"I was snooping," Din admits.

"Is that so?" Cobb asks, looking amused, the shyness gone from his eyes. Din wonders how much Cobb can see spread across his own face. "Ain't really snooping when it's your room too." He leans down and presses a chaste kiss to Din's lips.

"I like the dress," Din says, not sure how to express the full depth of the thoughts speeding through his mind at a hundred parsecs a minute.

"Oh yeah?" Cobb asks and kisses him again. "Wanna see?"

+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+

Cobb takes his sweet time in the refresher, but Din's breath is taken away when he comes out. He took the time to wash his face and hair of the day's grime, and the dress looks stunning on him. Where most of the clothes he dons are more functional than anything, the dress is anything but. The dress reaches just to the middle of his thigh and the thin straps show off his deceptively strong shoulders, decorated with scars from a lifetime of survival. Cobb is practically glowing. The red on his cheeks just about match the dress, and it's from more than just the harsh light of the Tatooine suns. His eyes are shining bright and-- and happy.

"You look amazing," Din says when Cobb reaches him. His hands move forward to rest oh-so-gently on his waist and his thumb rubs circles against the fabric, still so soft against his skin. "Why haven't I seen this before?"

"Thank you kindly," Cobb says. He looks away and wraps his arms around Din, holding him close. "I've never worn this around anybody before."

"I'm honored," Din says into his neck, smelling the artificial soap they both use and the smell of Cobb underneath it. "Do you still want me to use 'Cobb'? And... he?"

Cobb hums considering. "I'm still a man," Cobb says. "Well, most of the time, I suppose. Right now, to be certain. Sometimes I feel differently." He shrugs. "But most of the time, I just like it. Feels good against my skin, feels... free. Don't rightly know how else to describe it."

Cobb presses a kiss to the side of Din's head, and Din lets his hands explore, feeling the fabric as it presses against the taut skin of Cobb's back.

"Is it sexual?" he asks.

Cobb laughs, presses another kiss to Din's head, then pulls his face up into a kiss, deeper than before. Din opens his mouth up to him and they kiss for a few seconds, Din's hands still touching Cobb all over, reveling in the feel of the dress. He wants... he wants...

"Can be," Cobb finally says when they part, breathing heavy. "I've had to get rid of some mighty tough stains, that's for sure." Din can feel the heat of Cobb's hardness against his thigh and Din presses up against it. "But not always. Some days I'll just wear it while I'm doing my normal shit. Cooking, reading a book, fixing up 'round the house."

Din can imagine it. Cobb lounging on the couch, legs apart like always, reading something on the datapad. Cobb with flour in his hair from baking. Cobb with a streak of grease on his face from doing repairs, ruggedness standing in contrast against the dress.

"Can I..." Din starts. The question gets stuck in his throat, and he leans in to press his lips against Cobb's collarbone.

"Anything you want, darlin', just say the word."

"Can I try it on?" Din blurts out.

Cobb freezes for a second before he starts shaking, and Din realizes he's laughing at him. He frowns and starts to pull back and away. "Never mind," he says, "it was just a-"

"No! Darlin', no, I'm sorry. I'm not laughing at you. It's just not what I was expecting, is all." He pulls Din back in for another kiss and smiles against his lips. "I thought you were going to ask if you could grab that dick of yours in the bedside table and bend me over the dresser."

Finally, Din catches up and a smile pulls on his face to match Cobb's. "Wouldn't be opposed to that, if you want."

"What I want is for you to try on the dress." He presses a kiss to Din's forehead and pulls back. "Not this one though."

He moves over to the dresser and pulls out another drawer, picking out a yellow bundle. A dress, in the same style as the one Cobb is wearing, but a bright mustard yellow instead of the sharp red. Din's mouth goes dry and he reaches out to grab it. This time, he doesn't stop himself from rubbing it against his face. The fabric pulls against his stubble and feels unbelievable against his skin. Cobb looks at him so, so tenderly that Din damn near wants to cry.

"Go on, then." He nods towards the fresher. "Take as much time as you need."

"No," Din says breathlessly. "I'll-- here." He wastes no time in pulling off his dark shirt, throwing it haphazardly where he normally would take the time to put it away, and pushes down his long pants, kicking them away.

The dress goes easily over his head, but getting his arms through the straps proves to be somewhat of a challenge. Nothing he can't overcome, though, and soon enough it's situated, and he just looks up at Cobb and smiles. He brushes his hands down his chest that he knows is only adorned with his binary scars, down to his thighs, feeling the soft fabric all the way down. The dress is lighter than he expected, and, weirdly, he feels like he can breathe easier. Easier than he could in his flight suit, easier than he could in his sleepwear, and easier than he could when he was wearing nothing at all.

"You like it?" Cobb asks him. Din feels higher than he did when Cobb introduced him to that leafy green spice of his.

"Yeah," he says and it feels like an understatement.

"Wanna take a look?"

"Yeah."

Cobb pulls him to the fresher, the only floor length mirror in the abode.

"You're breathtaking," Cobb tells him as he stands behind Din, holding him close.

Din's not one for vanity, but in this case he has to agree. He never thought he'd be capable of looking so soft and vibrant before in his life. And together, he and Cobb make quite a pair, complimenting and contrasting each other in equal measure, red and yellow burning bright together.

Cobb's arms wrap around Din's waist and he's pulled in, back flush against Cobb's front. Cobb rests his chin on Din's neck, admiring the picture of them together in the mirror.

"How'd I get so lucky?" Cobb asks, holding him tight. Din turns around in his arms and kisses him.

"I ask myself that every day." They kiss for a few moments more, the silky smooth fabric of their dresses sliding against each other so easily that Din can feel everything. "Now how about instead of the dresser, I bend you over this sink."

Cobb laughs at that, shining and beautiful, and presses Din up against said sink. "Darlin'," he says, "I thought you'd never ask."

[prettyboy-asmo]

Obey me! boys with trans masc MC

 Some headcanons about the brothers + Solomon and Diavolo with Trans Masc MC. it’s pretty self-indulgent. Obviously not everyone shares the same experiences with their identity.  I took from my own experiences and feelings about things to write these.

TW: Mentions of transphobia (not detailed and not from any of the main  characters)

Lucifer

It doesn’t actually come up for some time, not until you realize that you two are definitely getting closer to being intimate. 

One night things start to get steamy and when you realize you have to force yourself to not run away. You’re still up and halfway across the room faster than Lucifer thought a human could move. Your heart is beating wildly in your chest, and you have to make yourself look Lucifer in the eyes. 

He’s quick to apologize, thinking he made you uncomfortable- he’s honestly worried he’d hurt you or crossed your boundaries. You assure him that it’s nothing like that. You just need to explain something before things go further. 

If you are nervous about telling him, he’ll wait patiently for you to say what you need to say. Reassures you that it changes nothing about how he feels about you. He only cares that you’re happy and comfortable. 

“I’m glad you feel comfortable telling me. I know humans can hold some troubling views on the subject.” He’s never really understood a lot of the human hang ups on things like this, but he knows it’s a big deal for some to share the knowledge with others, it takes trust.

What he doesn’t say is how happy he is that you trust him that much (how proud he is,) 

Will ask if there’s anything specific you need him to do/not do or anything that you might not have that you want or need. (ie: new binder if you haven’t had top surgery, do you want top surgery? He can make it happen.)

If you’re having a particularly bad time with dysphoria, he’ll straight up ask if there’s anything he can do to help. 

He’ll also be sure to call you by your name, or specifically masculine terms 

Someone misgenders you on purpose? He doesn’t hesitate to set them straight. No one’s foolish enough to do it again. 

Mammon:

He finds out on accident. You’re changing when he barges in your room, saying something about being late for breakfast in his usual loud manner. 

He freezes when he finally looks at you, Sees your binder or your scars but honestly it doesn’t really register bc holy shit his human is half dressed and standing in front of him and-poor boy is blushing so hard and is silent because he’s certain he’ll make a fool of himself. 

It hadn’t occurred to you until he went quiet that he didn’t know already. 

You finish getting dressed and his silence is worrying you at this point. You quietly ask him if he’d like for you to stop hanging around him

That manages to snap him out of his daze and he looks utterly confused. “Why would ya think that?” You try to explain that you’ve had people that have stopped speaking to you because you’re trans, or have even tried to tell you it’s wrong. 

“They obviously don’t know anything,” He says, “You’re stuck with the Great Mammon, ya hear? I’m your first guy and you’re my man!” It’s not the first time he’s referred to you as his, but it’s the first time he’s used man instead of human. After that though, he starts doing it more and each time it makes you smile. 

“That’s right, That’s my man!” “What took ya so long, man?” 

If you’re having bad dysphoria he’s very vocal about calling you his man, reassuring you, and asking what you want in that moment. Stay in and just lay around? Sure. find a distraction? He can think of plenty.

He offers you some of his shirts and jackets. “They suit ya,” he insists, even if they’re big on you, “Gotta make sure my man is staying stylish!”  (He won’t admit how happy it makes him to see you wearing his clothes, but you can tell anyways.)

Someone misgenders you to upset you? “What’d you just say to my man?” He’s angry and he’s not about to be quiet about it. 

Leviathan:

You mention it off-handedly while discussing your favorite anime and manga. 

You’d started talking about one that actually had pretty decent Trans rep, lamenting that it wasn’t more popular because of how much it meant to see someone like you-

Levi catches it immediately, but he doesn’t say anything about- It doesn’t change anything he feels anyway. 

He does, however, take time to look for movies, tv shows, games, or anything you might both enjoy that has good Representation. 

When you realize what he’s doing you can’t help but hug him tightly  and kiss his cheek, and it makes him blush.”I’m glad you’re happy.” 

Bad Dysphoria? He’ll drag you to his room to binge anime, play games, and watch movies. He knows the distraction helps.

You’re his Henry, and he’s gonna go the extra mile to make sure you’re comfortable, however he can. 

If you use a binder and find you need a new one, he’s on top of it- He’ll offer to make one for you so he knows it’ll be the right size and it will be good quality. 

Someone misgenders you after being corrected? He checks on you first and asks if you want him to do something about it. If he finds out they did it Maliciously? He’s going to do something about that- reminding everyone in the process that he’s the third eldest (and third most powerful) for a reason. 

Satan:

It comes up when you start spending more time with him- studying or getting book recommendations to pass your free time, You can tell when your interactions shift to something more.

He nods when you tell him, “And your pronouns are He/him, correct?” 

Asks if there’s anything he should avoid doing, anything you don’t like to be called, He wants to know your boundaries then and there so he doesn’t overstep them. 

He spends some time researching. He wants to make sure he understands as much as he can about you, including this- he doesn’t want to ask you directly what your experience in the human realm was, in case it brings up any unpleasant memories. 

You notice the change in his reading list eventually and it makes you feel warm knowing that he’s doing it for you. You tell him if he does have any questions he can ask you. 

He does ask you if you use a binder and if you’re binding safely.

He also asks if Dysphoria is something you struggle with. If you tell him it is, his line of questioning shifts to things he can possibly do to help you deal with it. 

If it’s a really rough day and you admit you don’t want to really do anything, he’ll pick a book to read to you, just so you know he’s there for anything you need, even if it’s just quiet company. 

He also becomes a little more vocal, calls you things like dashing or handsome. 

If someone misgenders you with ill intent? He’s going to deal with it, and it’s not going to be pretty. 

Asmodeus:

He invites you to his room to show you the new outfits he bought. He does it pretty much every time he goes shopping. 

This time the first outfit he walks out includes a skirt. You already know Asmo doesn’t believe in gendered clothing, or adhering to any sort of ‘norm’ but it’s the first time you’ve seen it so obviously in person when it comes to his clothes.

“I wish I could wear something like that,” the words are out your mouth before you register them, and you flush even while Asmo giggles. He offers his closet to you and tells you to try something on. 

Your hesitance must show, because he frowns a little, looking concerned. “I used to,” you admit, “But people kept telling me that I didn’t need to transition if I liked all that stuff anyways.” 

He’s next to you in a second, hand tilting your chin to look at him, “Fuck those people,” he says seriously, “It’s a shame for a man to hide such a delightful body. It’s even worse for him to deny himself things he likes because of ignorant commentary.” 

He ends up making suggestions on what to try on, starting with a simple skirt and shirt combo. 

You stare at the mirror for a long time, turning occasionally to watch the way the skirt flares up slightly when you do. You catch Asmo smiling behind you in the reflection.

“Do you like it?” You catch his eyes in the reflection, nodding, “I missed the feeling. Thank you, Asmo.” 

“Anything for someone as handsome as you,” 

If you’re feeling really dysphoric he’ll try to pamper you- want him to brush your hair? Face masks? A relaxing bath? An entire spa day? New clothes? He wants you to feel good about yourself and he knows self care is the first step. 

He loves to pick out clothes for you to wear, but he always explicitly asks what style you want, because he wants you to feel as good as you look in anything he picks for you. 

If someone misgenders you maliciously or more than once, he’ll have plenty of words with them. 

In fact, as it turns out many of his fans will also have words if they catch wind- Asmo loves posting pics with you on Devilgram and taking you to the Fall, so you’ve also become part of many of his fans' lives too.

Beelzebub:

You feel a little self-conscious surrounded by attractive demons- But Beel is a whole other level. He’s tall and solid muscle, and you're envious of it. 

You know you could never keep up with his workouts, but you ask if you could join him anyways, and if he could give you some pointers on good workouts for specific goals. He agrees right away, more than happy to help. 

It becomes a routine and you look forward to your shared workouts, even if it’s just you both doing your own thing, or Beel giving you pointers on your form or him asking you to record him so he can see how his own form looks. 

You’re so comfortable around Beel, that during one of your afternoon workouts you pull your shirt over your head as you stop to take a break and even out your breathing. 

“It’s not good to wear a binder while exercising for so long.” Beel’s concerned comment takes you off guard for a moment and you flush, unsure of what to say because he sounds so casual about it, and you aren’t really used to it. 

You settle for “Sorry,” and quickly go to tug your shirt back on, but he shakes his head. “You don’t have to. Just rest while I finish up.” 

“You’re doing this for you, right? No matter what, You’re a great guy, so don’t push yourself because other people expect it.”  You’re surprised when he joins you after he’s done and it’s the first thing he says. You tell him it does help you feel better about yourself and you enjoy spending the time with him, doing something you both enjoy. And the smile he gives you is blinding. 

If you’re having a bad time with Dysphoria he’ll ask what you want to do. Workout? Movie and Snacks? Do you need a distraction or do you want to just...be?

He’s well aware of the toxic masculinity that can be present in places like gyms and such. He’s never tolerated it, but there’s a new edge to him if he hears anyone saying something disrespectful or hateful. 

If someone misgenders you, he makes his displeasure known but he focuses on making sure you aren’t upset. (Not many would dare risk making him angry anyways, as quiet as he is he’s still intimidating when he needs to be.)

Belphegor: 

You don’t actually tell him. with how often you end up napping with him he just knows. He doesn’t even say anything about it- he doesn’t see the need to and neither do you. 

He does say something the one time he catches you falling asleep in a binder. “You can’t sleep in that!” he wakes you up and makes you change- he tells you it’s important to have proper sleepwear, a lecture that might even rival one Lucifer's, as he himself begins to doze off. 

After that he makes a point to check to make sure you aren’t wearing a binder before he cuddles up for a nap or for the night (Not that he admits it to you)

He likes to tease you, but he’s always hyper aware of his words. The last thing he wants to do is accidentally say something that might actually hurt you

He doesn’t tend to use overly gendered language with you in the first place, “You’re my nap buddy,” “You make a really nice pillow,” “I like it when you look flustered like that,”

But if he notices/ you tell him you’re struggling with dysphoria more than usual he’ll make the effort to use specifically masculine terms

He’s not the greatest with being open about his feelings but he’ll reassure you if that’s what you need

He doesn’t like seeing you struggling so he asks the best ways to help you feel better, even if he still teases you he’s doing his best to cheer you up or make you more comfortable.

If someone misgenders you on purpose he’s making sure you’re okay. He’ll be even more clingy than usual, glare at anyone he thinks looks at you wrong or he’ll simply drag you back home to laze around and cuddle (He tells you he’s tired and just wants to nap, but he really just wants to keep an eye on you in case it upset you more than you showed.) 

He’ll have a discussion with whoever upset you later, anyways. 

Solomon: 

When you realize he’s way older than he looks you’re concerned that he’s gonna have some very archaic views about things. 

Even as you grow closer to him, the thought nags at the back of your mind and it keeps you stuck at a distance despite his obvious flirting. 

He notices, of course. “Am I making you uncomfortable? I can stop if you’d like,” It's a stark contrast to his usual teasing and mystic demeanor, and the serious expression on his face draws some courage from you. 

You manage to tell him without stuttering, and then you flush when you tell him you weren’t sure he’d be okay with that. Saying it out loud makes you feel a little silly- all things considered. 

He hums and tells you he understands, but that he doesn’t care in the sense that if you’re happy and true to yourself that’s what matters most. (It sounds suspiciously like something Asmo would say, but there’s sincerity in his voice and eyes.)

His flirting continues- when he passes you at RAD, when he invites you to study with him, even his messages, simple compliments like “You look rather handsome today,” or teasing “I’m so lucky to sit with the cutest boy in class,” but now that you aren’t worrying about other things, you can finally return his teasing. 

If you’re having a hard time with dysphoria, he’ll ask if he can help. He’ll show up with snacks, movies, books, anything you want to do. He’ll even offer to ask Asmo for the needed supplies for a spa day, if he thinks that might help. 

If someone misgenders you on purpose he’s gonna set them straight. He’s the most powerful sorcerer and he’s not going to let someone disrespect you like that

Diavolo: 

When you arrive in the Devildom, you actually laugh. A few of the people (demons!) standing around you look concerned. 

“I mean, plenty of people told me I’d go to hell but I don’t think this is what they meant.” There’s some surprised looks but no one mentions it past that, really. 

But it does come up in one of your regular meetings with Diavolo, what had started out as short meetings to discuss how things were progressing during your stay had suddenly turned into hours of visiting over tea and Barbatos cooking. 

He asks you what you meant when you’d said that. It wasn’t the first ‘personal’ question he asked you, and you didn’t see a reason not to explain. So you tell him all about your run ins with the wannabe preachers and ‘concerned’ Sunday school moms and the like and how you managed to offend them. 

He looks curious and you tell him to feel free to ask you if he has a question. He has a few, mostly about if there’s anything making you uncomfortable he might not be aware of, or if there’s anything you need that you can’t get in the Devildom. 

He’s genuinely concerned about not having thought about things like this when it comes to the exchange students, and asks if you’d help him make sure the program was improved and friendly towards all. 

It warms your heart to see him so passionate and ready to learn in order to make others comfortable, so you agree without hesitation

Your visits with Diavolo grow in number after that though some of them remain just friendly visits, some are focused on the exchange program and some of them are far more intimate. 

If you tell him you’re having a rough time with feeling dysphoric, he’ll Invite you over to visit and make sure you’re alright- and if you don’t feel like going out? He’ll come to you, a box of sweets from Barbatos and determined to find out if there’s anything he can do to help. 

He’s all about reassurance, “You’re perfect, and I don’t lie, remember?” 

Someone misgenders you intentionally or is just being transphobic in general? He’s quick to shut that down. He makes it known that he won’t tolerate any sort of hate speech or such behavior, and especially not towards you. No one is going to test Lord Diavolo on that, either.

[plus-size-reader]

Vulnerable Pt.2

Henry Bowers x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 1780 words

Warnings: none 

Summary: Henry doing his best to make a mends after he treated the reader so badly

Part 1

——————————————————————————————————

You hadn't seen Henry since that night in the Trans Am.

He had made it very clear how he felt about you and that was fine. If he didn't want to spend time with you, you weren't going to waste your time worrying about what he had going on. That was just about all you cared to think about, and then you moved on.

You weren't desperate, or in love, you just wanted to get closer to a man that you didn't know very well to begin with, but that wasn't what he had in mind. You weren't going to waste your energy, or emotions, on someone who didn't even care enough to be honest with you.

Besides, if he thought you were such a lard ass, there was no loss for him.

That being said, it shocked him when he got to school and saw you across the hall, only to turn away from him entirely. There was no real upset on your face or even much thought at all when your eyes met his, or when you turned away.

However, even though you seemed to not care at all, Henry certainly did.

The way you'd reacted wasn't alright by him. After the way he'd treated you the other night, you should have had something to say to him. You should have made a scene or yelled at him, you should have done something.

It didn't matter how you reacted, but you should have done something. He had been so nasty to you, shutting you down in the middle of a pretty solid make-out but now it was like you didn't even care.

What kind of chick wouldn't have something to say after that? Not any that he'd ever known.

Still, Henry wasn't some girl who was going to stress over why you weren't doting on his every word. He didn't care, or so he told himself over and over again. It didn't make any sense, mostly because Henry had never felt that way, but he didn't want to think about it.

He didn't want to even give the idea any weight, and he certainly didn't want to give the guys any cue that something was wrong with him. The last thing he needed was those idiots making a scene over this whole thing.

They would just call him a bitch over it.

However, after a half hour or so of Henry trying to make sense of it all, his left leg shaking aggressively against his desk. He couldn't focus for shit, and every time he managed to try, his thoughts somehow drifted back to your face that night.

You looked so shocked when you realized what he'd meant the first time he told you to get out. There was only a split second where you actually looked upset, surprised that he would actually treat you like that, but you quickly replaced it with anger.

It was the same thing he often did.

Though, coming from you, it made much more sense. You didn't know anyone in this town, but you'd somehow ended up in the backseat of Belch's car with him. It was a hell of a welcome to this place, and he sort of felt bad.

You didn't deserve the way he'd yelled at you.

Henry understood that he wasn't the greatest guy, and he knew that you would always be too good for him. Admitting that to other people was the part he had trouble with, and he was never going to do that sort of thing.

...At least, not now.

What he did know was that if he didn't get some kind of explanation from you, he was going to go crazy. He didn't understand what he felt for you, or what he cared at all, but he did. Nothing he tried to do could change that.

Henry didn't want to talk to you.

He didn't want to address what had happened in the back of Belch's car, or what he'd said about you, but he felt like he didn't have a choice. In the same way that you'd forced Henry to feel things that he'd never felt before, you also had this effect on him.

It felt like he wasn't good enough for you, but maybe he didn't need to push you away because of that. Maybe there was some way for him to get better to deserve you.

In any case, Henry knew that explaining himself to you was not going to be easy.

After the way he'd acted, he knew that you were going to really make him swallow his pride over it, and that was going to be hard. Right now though, Henry didn't care about any of that. All he cared about was getting you to look at him again with something in your eyes.

He wanted you to look at him like you had before it all went south, when the two of you were just hanging out, talking like real people.

That was what he was missing.

~

You didn't really care about the way Henry had acted, mostly because you didn't have many expectations in the first place. 

The way your brother talked about him was enough for you to give up all hope of a relationship.

All you really wanted from Henry was a good time but even that was too much, which was fine by you. He wasn't the only person in this town so if he really had a problem, you weren't going to push the issue.

However, just because you'd come to terms with that didn't make you any more ready when Henry approached you after school. For once, he wasn't surrounded by his 'gang' but that didn't bring you any comfort either.

Just because they weren't around right now didn't mean that couldn't change at any second.

"Why didn't you talk to me this morning?" he started, an almost accusatory tone in his voice. It was a unique approach, especially because he was the one who'd yelled at you in the first place. You didn't push him away or make him walk home all alone.

This wasn't your fault.

Though, you didn't bother to explain that to Henry, who you doubted would understand what he'd done wrong. In fact, you weren't even sure why he was bothering to talk to you at all, he had made his opinions very clear.

As far as you were concerned, there was no need to even have this conversation.

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize I needed to" you scoffed finally, when you glanced over your shoulder to find the blonde still standing there, his arms across his chest. He was really entitled, considered the fact that you didn't owe him anything.

You clearly weren't in the mood, but Henry couldn't let this be the way this whole thing ended. He owed you an apology but it was obviously going to be a lot harder than he'd originally thought to get there.

"No, you didn't need to. I just kinda thought you would" he stammered, floundering just a little bit in the kind of way you didn't expect. It was a vulnerability that you hadn't been expecting, but while it softened you a little, you weren't willing to forget how cruel he'd been.

No one deserved to be treated the way Henry so often treated everyone else.

He could be so cruel, and so nasty, and had been that night. Still, you just felt like even knowing that, he seemed to be telling the truth. The look on his face was more than enough to sell it.

You hadn't known Henry for very long but you could tell that he wasn't used to having to swallow his pride like this and really, you were enjoying it a little more than you should have been. 

It just made you feel good. 

Maybe that was cruel, or petty but you didn’t care. You had never taken Henry for the groveling type, and it was amusing to watch him scramble his way to an apology. 

“You made yourself pretty clear before” you allowed, shoving the entirety of your locker contents into your bag. You didn’t have very much there in the first place, but it was enough to pull your focus from Henry again. 

Anything was a welcome distraction at this point. 

There was a moment of silence behind you as Henry tried to keep up with you walking out of the building, while still trying to come up with what he wanted to say. All the thinking he’d done previously were doing very little to help him now that he was facing you. 

“I know, I’m sorry about that” was all he came up with. It was ridiculous, of course, but all things considered, you had to give it to him. Henry didn’t have much experience in the area of apologizing. 

It wasn’t something he was all that good at but at least he was trying, from where you were sitting, that was half the battle. So, as much as you were enjoying tormenting him, you felt like it wasn’t going to get any better than this. 

“What are you playing at? What do you want?” you asked finally, stopping your stride to face him, paying no mind to the rest of the students about the courtyard. Everyone was heading home after a long school day, but they didn’t even spare the pair of you a glance.

Whatever business it was that Henry Bowers had with the new girl, they didn’t want to be part of it. 

Clearly, Henry wanted you to say or do something. That was the only reason why he would still be here, looking at you with that expecting look on his face. Still, he didn’t know what to say. 

There weren’t really words for what he was feeling. 

He wanted you, and wanted to make it all better but he also didn’t know how to handle the way you made him feel. All he knew was that he didn’t want to see you from across the hallway and not be able to talk to you. He didn’t want to never be able to kiss you again. 

Even if he couldn’t just be straight up and say that. 

“I want another shot, let me take you out” he suggested finally, confronting everything he was thinking head on. It was sudden, and didn’t make very much sense but he figured if he had to, he should just rip the bandage right off. 

...And, even though you knew you would regret it, you agreed. If that made you a glutton for punishment, so be it.  

[monipoka]

Addressing Content Warning Concerns

I am writing in response to points that were brought up concerning my recent post. If you haven’t read that post, you can find it here.

Be warned that this is a very long post (2.8k words). It deals with the topics of pedophilia and rape. Opinions expressed are my own; however, I do offer some resources for you to better educate yourself on this post’s content.

I will not provide a link to the user that responded as she had no ill intentions. Disclaimer if the said user reads this post, I write with peace and love at 4:00 A.M. There are a couple of places where I may sound aggressive or petty, but it is analytical and not meant to invalidate you or your opinions.

Red = user’s response with minimal changes (adjusted for grammar and clarification)

Black = my response

Part 1: Age Regression and Infantilization

To learn more about age regression, here are two lovely articles describing what age regression means medically and socially.

“Age regression [agere] is a form of coping meant to eliminate stress in potentially triggering situations. Agere is not a part of sexual play and never should be. I believe [Moni] is confusing agere for age play.”

This completely misses the mark. I understand that age regressors enter a younger psychological state often as a coping mechanism. There is nothing inherently wrong with age regression as therapy. My complaints are that people are FETISHIZING age regression. As stated in my post, age regressors enter the mindset of a child commonly called a “little space.” These individuals are to be treated like children as it helps them feel safe and loved.

In my experience on Tumblr, writers commonly misinterpret Daddy Dominant, Little Girl (DDLG) or Age Play (the larger, umbrella term) for age regression. For the purposes of explanation, I am going to be using DDLG and she/her pronouns. DDLG is a type of BDSM relationship where the dominant partner (male) takes on the role of a care-giver while the submissive partner (female) takes on the role of a child. This dynamic is pretend and intended for sexual interactions. Keyword here: pretend. While the submissive portrays childish behavior, she still has an adult mindset; therefore, she can give meaningful consent. Once writers describe the submissive slipping into “little space,” her mindset is corrupt as she has age regressed; therefore, she cannot give meaningful consent making the interaction non-consensual as she embodies a child.

“Infantilization is treating somebody as if they’re a child. For example, ‘babying’ someone is the best explanation for it. This, in my opinion, is not pedophilia because it’s not inherently sexual. If it IS sexual, I wouldn’t necessarily classify it as pedophilic, but it is questionable.”

Again, this misses the mark. In a non-sexual context, infantilization is completely okay. My complaints are that people are FETISHIZING the infantilization of characters. I used this term as an alternative language to age regression because I have encountered both on this site.

“Age Play, in my opinion, is pedophilic due to how the 'older’ of the partners is benefitting from it. So if [Moni] and I are thinking the same thing, but not really using the same terminology, then I agree.”

Age Play is a kink in the BDSM community between two consenting and level-headed adults.

Age Regression is characterized by regressing back to a younger headspace.

Sexualizing age regression is pedophilic because age regressors feel, act, and exhibit childlike qualities; they genuinely believe that they are a child.

If age play includes “little space,” then it is pedophilic because the submissive has age regressed.

“None of these is what I would consider illegal due to the fact that both parties are consenting adults. But age play definitely is pedophilic. But, obviously, if both people are adults, it can’t be considered illegal.”

I called pedophilia (and rape) illegal. In the eyes of the law, sexualizing age play--given that the individual is of age--is legal. This point used the transitive property of equality (Trans POE) to point out the hypocrisy in condemning pedophilia but supporting the fetishization of age regression. To clarify, it may not be illegal, but it is morally wrong.

“Infantilization and age regression aren’t inherently pedophilic because they revolve around the idea of a mindset and not physicality.”

This is contradictory to your previous point and only half true. Age regressors largely rely on physical objects (ie. clothes, stuffed animals, pacifiers) to feel safe. While the root of age regression involves a change in psyche, it is reflected in their appearance and environment.

Part 2: Dubious Consent and Non-consensual

To learn more about rape, here is a wonderful article on non-consensual sex.

“Secondly, I’m quite confused on what she [Moni] is saying regarding calling dubcon [dubious consent] and noncon [non-consentual] rape instead of dubcon and noncon.

They are rape, or at least some form of sexual assault, but I don’t think anyone’s trying to mask them from being as such.”

I whole-heartedly disagree. It is apparent by the staggering number of dubcon and noncon posts that people use these terms to try and justify writing rape because they consider it a “fetish.” The reason I am against these terms is that writers never specifically condemn them. Oftentimes, writers mix the content of the fic into their warning section. So, by writing ‘blowjob’ next to ‘dubcon’ it underscores the severity of the situation.

“Categorizing both of the two as 'rape’ could potentially end up being very damaging. Rape is a very triggering and harsh word for some people, which is why I believe a lot of people use non-consensual sex as a term to avoid potentially triggering people.”

Again, I believe that people use dubcon and noncon to try and justify their rape “fetish.” However, if using the term “rape” is triggering to some individuals and the terms “dubcon” and “noncon” are used as a substitution, why aren’t these writers coming out and explicitly saying that they do not support these types of interactions? Furthermore, why are they writing and sharing this content in the first place if they acknowledge it as rape?

“Also, I think it’s important to clarify whether the 'sexual assault’ in fiction is dubious or non-consensual. There’s a big difference between both parties being drunk in a fic (dubcon) and hard rape, and it’s important to distinguish the two in warning columns.”

Drunk people can’t consent. Both situations are rape. The “level” of rape that you refer to, being how consensual it is, is more damaging in my opinion. Because they were drunk, it means less than if they were sober. This perpetuates victim shaming. She was asking for it. She shouldn’t have drunk so much. Rape is rape. It is never okay. And one rape is never better than another.

“Dubcon is also very important to clarify in fics due to the fact that dubcon is only a fictional concept. It helps indicate the level of consent given in the fiction because someone could be not triggered by sex under intoxication but can be triggered by hard noncon.”

I’m going to use a quote I cited from this source because I feel that the writer describes dubcon more eloquently than I can: “What bothers me the most about this situation, and what I think you are partly getting at here, is when people say that their fic isn't "noncon" or they say it is "dubcon" or "noncon depending on your point of view." Come on! Have the guts to admit that what they're writing is rape. Dubious consent bothers me as a qualifier because if you aren't sure whether someone is consenting, you don't do it or it's rape. No excuses. So, I think that people should just bite the bullet and say, this is a rape fic.... If people want to write rape fic, go for it, and I will probably read it, but let's step up and acknowledge what it is we are writing. I take issue with these qualifiers because I think that it is far more insidious than out and out rape porn. At least when we say it is rape, then we can move on to the next step: saying it's wrong, just a fantasy, etc. But avoiding the label perpetuates the rape myths that have had such a damaging effect on victims and justice: did she enjoy it, she didn't really say no, she was a tease, they've done it before. None of those things matter, and when a person labels their fic, they need to stop pretending they do.”

Essentially, the writer is reiterating what I explained in my previous comment that rape is rape. Another statement that I found describes how damaging fiction can be in real life. While most readers understand that what occurred didn’t really happen, there are real-life consequences attributed to it: “...However, not everyone in fandom uses those terms in those ways. And I think that's a problem that we need to fix. Because, especially when situations that exist in real life and that would be called rape in real life are labeled "dubcon," I think it does real harm to us all.....We currently live in a culture where not fighting back - because, for example, the rapist has threatened to kill you, or someone else, or your pet, if you don't go along with it - will very often get a rape case overturned in court. Where judges and juries and god knows the popular media will pick out and analyze every detail of a person's life to determine whether they were asking for it, whether they secretly wanted it, whether they could have conceivably fought back more than they did, why they didn't scream, why they didn't report the blackmail that was used to control them, whether or not their "consent" might've been implicitly given by winks or nods or secret handshakes or a general miasma of sexual invitation. In other words, we live in a world in which rape culture, a thing we all unwittingly participate in at one time or another, works very very hard to label things dubcon when they're really noncon.”

“Most people 'romanticizing’ non-consensual sex are victims who are trying to gain some sort of control over their trauma, so they have every right to do so. If a victim of rape should have the ability to choose whether or not they want to read/write a noncon fic and if they don’t want to use the word rape because it makes them uncomfortable, they don’t have to and shouldn’t be forced to.

As a victim of rape and sexual assault, I find peace in having the control and ability to write about my trauma. It's a way for me to gain back control that I lost and the word rape does make me uncomfortable, it makes many victims uncomfortable, and if I prefer not to use that word then I should not have to if people know synonymous terms.”

Romanticize: deal with or describe in an idealized or unrealistic fashion; make (something) seem better or more appealing than it really is.

If you are writing/reading smut, you are trying to get off. If you are writing/reading dubcon/noncon smut, you are getting off to rape. Instead of writing/reading about how heinous rape is and how disgusting rape culture is, you write/read fics romanticizing rape since as a reader you enjoy the content to some extent: it is with your favorite character, it takes place in a cool universe, it got you horny, you felt good after reading it. Romanticizing rape is damaging to society as it subconsciously makes rape appealing. I doubt that is the intention, but you can’t deny that these underlying connections exist.

There is a difference between writing to cope and writing to entertain. My intention has never been to victim shame. But writing non-consensual sex between anime characters and a reader-insert is a form of entertainment. Remember the purposes of writing we learned about in elementary school? Yeah, I have a hard time believing that this is therapeutic. Journal therapy uses reflective writing to work through trauma and mental health issues. In sexual assault cases specifically, victims often write about their experience and/or letters to their perpetrator(s). However, if this is your way to cope, that’s fine. But writing rape fics is not the same as sharing rape fics.

“People know the severity of noncon and dubcon, which is what I think [Moni] is missing. No one is trying to not make noncon rape because it is rape. People know that it is. Most people just chose to say 'noncon’ to avoid unnecessarily triggering others.”

Do they? I think to my previous comments in this section, people use these terms to downplay the seriousness of rape.

“And there are far more 'consensual’ fics out there than noncon/dubcon fics, so I don’t exactly understand what [Moni] means by 'romanticize’ or 'normalize it.’”

Two comments up I describe what romanticization is and how it is being done in the community. I’m going to ignore the number part of this statement because I feel that there is no relevance; If there is a platform for rape fics and people are engaging with them, numbers don’t matter relative to another type of fic. I call that authors romanticize consensual sex because it is oftentimes not explicitly stated, and I think it should be. The character(s) and reader are in a relationship and sex is a byproduct of that (I do not consider this dubcon). Personally, I have found very few fics where explicit consent is written in. People sometimes think that asking for consent interrupts the flow and ruins a moment. Works of fiction have an impact on real life, and writing/reading about consent serves to reinforce healthy practices.

“Going off of that, I don’t understand what [Moni] means by 'fairly young’ audiences. I'm hoping that most 18+ consumers are, you know, eighteen or older (obviously that's not the case in all situations), and eighteen is a legal adult. Most people over the age of eighteen are very aware of what these terms mean, and they know right from wrong. So, there should be no need to clarify what 'noncon’ is for them.”

My point is that this community is relatively young. I have not encountered many writers or readers who are over the age of 25 (if you are, kudos). At this age, you lack experience. Many of these readers have never had sex or been in a relationship before. While you might know the difference between rape and consensual sex on paper, some of these things are more subtle--especially in person. You referenced drunk sex as something that you’d classify as dubcon although intoxicated individuals can’t consent. I recently read a fic where the reader was drunk and picked up at the bar by a character. He asked the reader if they consented to sex and they agreed. This is still rape as you cannot consent while intoxicated since alcohol impairs judgment. Regardless of enjoyment, which the reader experienced, this is still sexual assault. Can you see the confusion by labeling that dubcon? What is a young adult to think when they’ve been manipulated into sex but told they consented? It’s confusing, so these terms should be clarified.

Part 3: Fiction

To learn more about how fiction affects reality, here is this interesting TED-Ed animation that summarizes fiction’s impact. Also, I read this article that cites more examples.

“Also, our writing shouldn’t have to equate 'good practices,’ because a healthy-minded individual knows how to separate fiction and reality. Give people the freedom to write about whatever they want, whether it’s in private or not, that's what fiction is for.”

You claim that you don’t want to use the word rape to trigger people, so you acknowledge that not all readers are health-minded as they could be suffering from trauma or mental illness. Likewise, some individuals can’t discern fiction from reality.

More importantly, there is a connection between fiction and reality.

“Finally, I don't think we should be so open with connecting real-life issues with fictional ones. No one is going to become a rapist or want to be raped because they read fiction on it unless they’re truly a rapist or have been raped. Equating fictional works to real-life problems is a little insulting, whether [Moni] intended it to be or not.”

Watch the video and read the article. Fiction directly impacts culture and society. It may be insulting, but it’s factual.

“Because in the end, in rape fiction, no one actually got raped. In pedophilic fiction (I don’t support it don’t get me wrong), no one was actually a victim of pedophilia. Because they’re all fictional.”

That doesn’t make it okay. Again, my problem is that writers ROMANTICIZE these topics which reflect poorly on society.

“If someone is concerned about pedophilia and rape fiction, I believe it would be best to work towards real-life solutions to those real-life problems compared to criticizing fiction authors.”

If you’re concerned about pedophilia and rape FICTION, I’d hope you’d criticize FICTION authors. Honestly, this seems to be a diversion tactic to avoid accountability.

Part 4: “No Offense, but You’re Wrong About Everything”

“Overall, I think [Moni] had good intentions, but it was poorly worded.

You pose a counter argument to each of my points and make it sound like I did not educate myself beforehand. You then deflect to talking about rape and pedophilia in real-world context to downplay the severity of pedophilia and rape in fiction.

I sound petty here, and I do not mean for my words to hurt. I wish that there was some communication beforehand since it seems that there was confusion. If my original post was unclear, I hope my comments help.

Conclusion

This is for everyone:

Please check out the resources I provided and do your own research to understand the situation before forming your own opinion.

No hate to the writer of the response. I just wish you would have reached out directly for clarification before taking my words out of context and assuming their meaning.

[imaginedhaven]

Reluctantly Rooming: Part Twelve

Link to Masterpost

I didn’t think I’d have this done so quickly, but here we are!

Content/Warning: While not intended to be a main focus of the work, this chapter does contain discussion of sexual orientation and the revelation of a side character as a trans man (who is almost assuredly not trans in the original canon). While I definitely want to be as respectful as possible even though I’m only barely broaching the topic, I cannot claim to be trans myself, so if I’ve gotten something wrong in my admittedly-minimal talk about it please tell me!

Today’s prompts:

Aelin getting stood up for a date

and

Inappropriate exclamations during an innocent massage

~*~*~

Aelin crossed her legs, leaning forward with an interest she was struggling to feel. “So, Ilias, you said you’re here for work? What is it you do?”

Ilias grinned a little too sharply at her, amusement flashing in sea-green eyes. “I work in… private security. I’m afraid I can’t say more than that.”

“Right.” She began to fidget with the skewer that had held her drink’s cherry, searching for something else to say.

“You seem uncomfortable. Want to get out of here?”

Oh gods, was he really…? Yes, he was leaning in, and the way his eyes flitted down her torso and then back up meant he was saying exactly what she thought he was saying.

“You know, if I’m being honest I don’t know if this is going to work,” she blurted out. “I mean, with you being based so far west of here, and traveling all over for your work… I’m not looking for forever on a first date, but maybe something a bit more stable than that.”

Ilias’ brow furrowed, then he nodded with an easy grin. “Fair enough. I definitely can’t promise stable.”

~*~*~

It had been a while since Aelin had been on a date with a woman, but she knew without a doubt that wasn’t the cause of the nerves settling in the pit of her stomach as golden eyes flashed at her from the barstool beside her. “Can I ask you a question that’s probably a bit rude?”

Her companion—Manon, that was her name—merely raised an amused eyebrow.

Aelin blurted out the question that had been at the tip of her tongue for the past several minutes. “Do you find that people being both scared and turned on is a normal reaction around you, or is it just me?”

Manon smirked, flicking her platinum braid over her shoulder. “It’s what I aim for,” she replied with a flash of sharp teeth.

Aelin laughed. “Okay, if I’m being honest we’re probably a terrible romantic match, but I like you. This is probably weird, since we’re on what’s supposed to be a date, but I have this friend who I think would absolutely love you…” Aelin trailed off, scrolling through the pictures on her phone.

Pointed nails dug into her shoulder as Manon peered at the screen. “I’m interested.”

Aelin blinked. “I haven’t told you anything about Elide.”

“I can see what I need to know about her from the way she’s holding herself in that picture. I’m willing to meet if she is.”

“I’ll introduce you on the condition that you teach me that trick you used on the guy you passed on your way in.”

“Deal.”

“You’re the best.”

“I know.”

~*~*~

Aelin sighed from the corner of the bar, shaking her head as Lysandra gave her a questioning stare. Ress was late. Incredibly late, not just something she could attribute to traffic.

She swirled the whiskey in her glass, watching the amber liquid to stop herself from checking her phone for the fifth time in as many minutes. He would show up if and when he showed up, and she was determined to not be bothered by it even though it bothered her immensely.

Maybe she should take Lysandra up on her offer to set her up. It couldn’t be worse than her experience trying to find people on dating apps.

Finally, her phone chimed as the screen lit up with an unfamiliar number. Aelin, it’s Ress. I’m so sorry, but I don’t think I’ll be able to make it. There’s been a huge disaster at work and apparently I’m the one who gets to clean it up.

Aelin sighed. Well, at least he’d texted her.

~*~*~

“Three flops in as many weeks, Lysandra, I think I’m cursed.” Aelin sighed and nestled further into the couch. “I mean, I went on a run today to try and calm down. Who goes on runs?”

“Rowan goes on runs,” her friend replied wickedly. “And I told you from the start that dating apps were hit or miss. This isn’t college anymore.”

“I didn’t have to worry about it in college,” she reminded her.

“That’s right, you were doing that thing with Sam where you thought you were a lesbian and Sam hadn’t fully come to the realization that he was a guy yet. You know, I still can’t believe you two wound up staying friends after how that fell out.”

Aelin grimaced. Some days she couldn’t quite believe it, either; she had hardly been graceful about it in college. “It took a lot of distance and a lot of growing up,” she admitted. “And a lot of admitting that I said a lot of things I didn’t mean.”

“Anyhow, if you’re ready to hear my ideas, I could set you up with Archer.”

Aelin frowned, rubbing at a sudden cramp in her calf muscles. “Is that a person’s name, or a profession?”

“It’s his name. I can help you with that, if you want.” Lysandra leaned forward and took over, deftly massaging her leg.

“And how exactly do you know this Archer?”

“I worked with him at that massage parlor in Rifthold.”

“No.”

“What do you mean, no?” Lysandra’s brow furrowed in confusion.

Aelin scowled. “No one from Rifthold.”

Green eyes softened in understanding. “He’s not like—”

“I don’t care. No.”

Thankfully, her friend dropped it there, instead focusing on working the knot out of her sore muscles. “I could also set you up with Rowan.”

Aelin groaned. “Oh gods, Lys. No.”

“What do you have to lose?”

“My dignity? My ability to live with him, and therefore my home?” She turned her head just enough to glare at her friend, otherwise remaining practically boneless as she sprawled across the couch.

Lysandra laughed. “You think Aedion wouldn’t kick him out over you?”

“I don’t want it to come to that. So no, you’re not setting me up with him.”

“But you could go on runs together, and when you push yourself too hard he could probably carry you home.”

“You’re a terrible influence. Remind me why we’re friends again?”

“Because you’re a worse one,” her friend grinned. “Besides, I can do this.”

A few deft strokes of Lysandra’s hands had the tension leaving her leg, and she moaned in relief. “Gods, that feels so good.”

“See? Everyone likes my hands, they’re one of my best features.”

“Don’t get all smug with me—yes, right there!”

A loud noise near the doorway had them both freezing and looking over, only to discover that Rowan had gotten home early and looked absolutely mortified. “Oh, for fuck’s sake, Aelin, you have a room.”

Aelin blushed hotly as she played back the last several moments of their conversation. Exactly how much had he heard? Hopefully it was just the last part; as awkward as it was, it was easier to explain than her misplaced attraction to him. “As trite as this sounds, it’s not what it looks like.”

“So you haven’t brought one of your recent dates home?” As odd as it was to think, she was relieved by the scowl on his face; the expression combined with his words indicated that he hadn’t heard them talking about him.

“Gods, no. This is Lysandra. From the bar, remember?”

Bless her, Lysandra stood and waved with a grin. She was less thrilled with what her friend proceeded to say, though. “Your friend here pushed too far running and hurt her leg. I was just helping with that.”

Immediately Rowan’s gaze fixated on her legs, obviously searching for any obvious sign of injury. Aelin sighed. “I’m fine, buzzard. It was just a muscle cramp.”

He nodded, the motion sharp and jerky, and strode into the kitchen, fetching a glass of water with almost mechanical precision. “I guarantee you didn’t drink enough water before you ran. This should help prevent it from coming back.”

She scowled, but obediently sipped from the glass after he handed it to her. “I thought you weren’t supposed to right before running. Doesn’t that upset your stomach?”

“I’m talking about yesterday, Aelin. You should be keeping well-hydrated on a daily basis if you’re going to take up running.”

“You just want me to drink more water,” she accused. “That sounds made up.”

“Just try it,” he replied. “You’ll thank me later.”

Her head jerked back toward the living area at the sound of a door closing, only to find that Lysandra had taken the opportunity to quietly let herself out. Her friend grinned and waved from the driveway when she saw her, clearly realizing she was caught and utterly unrepentant.

Aelin sighed and turned back to Rowan, who was watching her with an expression she couldn’t quite identify. “You’re really okay?” he asked.

She nodded. “I just needed something to help me not think for a while after these shit dates I’ve been on lately, and I’m told drinking alone is a sign of having a problem.”

The corner of his lips quirked up in the barest hint of a smile. “They must’ve been really bad, to make you consider running as a viable option.”

Aelin shrugged. “I mean, I’ve had worse, but I’ve also had better? It was just one miss after another, you know?”

He glanced at her again, then turned toward the refrigerator. “I think I have everything we need to make pasta, if that’ll help you feel better.”

“You’d actually make me pasta?” She frowned; there had to be some kind of catch. There was no way he would simply allow that many carbs to be on his stovetop at the same time.

“I would,” he replied, heading toward the pantry and grabbing…

“Wait, that’s not pasta,” she blurted out. Gods, she knew there was a catch.

He laughed, rolling up his sleeves before grabbing their eggs as well. “It’s not pasta yet.”

“You can’t seriously mean—” There was no way he was actually making pasta from scratch. There was a reason it came in boxes, she was sure of it.

“I can and I do. Now either stop talking and watch or get out of my kitchen.”

Aelin chose to watch, and the play of muscles in his forearms as he made and kneaded his own pasta dough was almost enough to make her forget about why she’d thought it was a good idea to try dating again in the first place.

Almost.

~*~*~

Tagging:

@ireallyshouldsleeprn @queen-of-glass @fangirlprincess09 @sassys-world @morganofthewildfire @superspiritfestival @perseusannabeth @sis-it-dont-add-up @jlinez @julemmaes @emilyoftheshadows @thegoddessofyou @mymultiversee @swankii-art-teacher @rowansfirebringer @livsdriverslicense @courtofjurdan @danibutterr @woollycat22 @rowaelinismyotp @sleeping-and-books @acciowests @stardelia @anidealiveson

[kcatta-wodahs]

Trans, Enby, or anything not Cis MC + OM Demon Bros!

TLDR; they all fuckin love you okay you’re wonderful

Lucifer

It happens right away honestly, as he is your introduction to Devildom 

You arrive suddenly in the student council, with no fucking warning, and with a bunch of people who are saying they’re demons. And like yeah okay sorcery obviously exists in your world so we can work with this but

He looks at a file, and states your deadname, and in a fit of bravery or just “i guess im here now” you correct him. 

The silence after that is palpable and every negative emotion you’re feeling as you wait shows up on your face. 

Lucifer only has a slight frown, looking at the paper, and at you, before it clears.

“Oh. Humans. I understand.” He marks something on the paper, and repeats your name. Your real name.

“Should I assume that the pronouns listed are incorrect as well?”

He calls for a RAD uniform that you’re most comfortable with, while Diavolo gushes over “HUMAN!!!”

Okay, cool, you’re hanging with demons now but at least they respect your pronouns? Guess this is your life. Your next question is whether you’re dead lol

So he knows the whole time, but it doesn’t change a thing! He loves you the same.

When you’re closer, he is very to-the-point about caring for you when you’re feeling dysphoric.

He offers you tips, makes sure you maintain your voice training even if you’re embarrassed about it, and always pushes you to express yourself how you want.

Hell maybe they use that princely riches to get you whatever surgeries you might want!

And he will *very clearly* show you how much he likes your body, however it is. 

After all, by the end of the game you belong to him, don’t you?

Mammon

When he's first assigned to be your guardian or whatever in Devildom, he didn't get the memo. 

Didn't read the paperwork, cause he's just like me and puts off homework for way too long.

So he doesn't know these pronouns of yours that Lucifer has fixed in the documentation.

Which means, unfortunately, you have to correct him when he first speaks to Levi about you.

What's funny about it is that he'll complain about LITERALLY EVERYTHING having to do with you and you being a human and UGH he has to take care of a FRAGILE HUMAN

But when you correct the pronouns he doesn't even fucking blink.

You don't even explain.

You just say the correct pronoun after he messes up, and then he repeats you and *continues complaining about you* but this time in the correct pronouns.

This is the first moment out of a million of "hidden endearing things about Mammon" that you will come to learn.

Later, when you're closer, he will always be there to stand up for you and put up a fight if anyone wants to give you shit.

He will defend you to the end of time. 

And he adores you. If he -- The Great Mammon -- adores you, then you must be perfect. So you can tell your stupid human brain to stuff it with the negative talk.

Leviathan

This one is written as AFAB

When you deny wearing the Ruri-chan dress for him, he's sad.

He KNEW you thought he was weird… and his thing for Ruri-chan was weird… and weirddmmm

So, you hesitantly tell him that… no, truly its not because of Ruri-chan

You just.. feel so sick when wearing dresses.

Something in you physically hurts, and you feel so *wrong* when in a situation where you're supposed to act "girly".

And you tell him that you don't really identify as female. You try to avoid that image whenever you can.

Levi is so touched that you would tell him and be honest with him.

He hugs you tightly and then turns beet red.

"D-Does that mean that you m-might.. kabedon… as Henry….?"

Cause he has that costume too and has never told anyone that he def would be seduced by his TSL hero.

You can get behind that one, and seeing how flustered he gets around you being yourself (through Henry?) has your confidence skyrocketing

This makes way to you flirting with ya boi 100% more often to see his adorable face.

Beelzebub

You go with him to work out, which is nothing really new, but this time he's looking at doing endurance training

...by swimming.

You have no idea what to do. 

He didn't think twice about it, either. He didn't assume there would be any problem at all. 

But for some reason your brain decided that his helpful and loving attitude wouldn't extend to this? Brains are silly when scared.

You try not to tear up when he questions why you've frozen in the doorway when he told you his plan.

You have no reason to be ashamed, or fearful, but the suddenness of the moment overwhelms you.

"I can't wear a swimsuit," is what comes out.

He pauses and then just looked vastly confused. He thought humans could swim..? Anyone could wear a swimsuit. You were wearing clothes right? What's the difference?

You wrap your arms around yourself, tryiing to soothe your nerves. "It's.. It shows too much.."

Then he looks you over, causing you to blush further, and he tips his head. "But you look nice."

Well if you weren't blushing before, now you definitely were. But it's not that. You hold your breath.

You try to explain without actually saying it, almost as if the word transgender has been blocked from your internal vocabulary. 

But this babe just insists that you look great no matter what. Is it scars? Like everyone here has scars, it's okay. Weird toes? You should see Belphie's. There's a reason he wears socks all the time. 

That almost makes you giggle, and you use that courage to say that you're trans.

He pauses for just a seond to blink. "Oh... nobody cares about that here."

He pulls you into a hug while you struggle for words. He tells you that you don't have to go swimming if you don't want to.

But he makes sure you know that he thinks you're wonderful. You're strong and brave and amazing. He will fight anyone who makes you feel differently. 

Asmodeus

This one is AMAB

It’s seeing Asmo be unequivocally himself that gives you the courage to do it.

You haven’t even told your human friends yet. Your human family.

You’ve known for ages, but..

Seeing Asmo flounce over to you wearing the most STUNNING evening dress has you weak at the knees, for reasons other than he assumes.

He assumes that you’re wildly in love as you duck your head and try to mumble something through your shaking breaths, and of course, who wouldn’t be?

But when he coaxes you to speak up for him, delight of a whole different kind lights up in his expression.

“Could you… make me as pretty as you?”

Oh, darling, he wouldn’t even need to try.

He dolls you up, hosting a lovely makeover session in his room. What he doesn’t expect is for you to start crying when you look at yourself in the mirror.

Asmo’s unshakeable confidence is shaken. He rushes over to you, trying to brush away tears and learning what’s wrong.

That’s when you tell him what you’d been hiding for so long.

The adoration in his eyes catches you off guard, and he takes your hands lovingly. “Oh, honey..” he mumbles, affectionate and sweet instead of seductive. “What’s your name?”

He takes you out shopping the next day, and is always ready to help you be yourself. 

He makes the switch almost instantly, and calls you the prettiest thing he’s ever seen even when you’re just waking up in the morning and kind of feel like a toad. 

(You blame him for those mornings, though, since he’s the one working so hard to *thoroughly* exhaust you the night before.)

Satan

This one is AFAB

You and Satan have begun meeting rather often for tea. 

It’s even gotten to the point where you’re both perfectly happy to sit in silence around each other. You’ve never been more comfortable.

But today, chaos reigns, and it has decided to make you clumsy today. Not even like, oh “that’s reasonable” clumsy.

No, you were enthralled in your fucking book, and you MISSED. 

Tea, all down your chin and neck, and you hear a snort of derision.

Satan is looking at you, very clearly amused. “Very graceful.”

You huff and puff out your cheeks at him to prevent from blushing. “Shut up. Do you have a towel?”

Looking no less amused, he just pulls a new shirt from the dresser behind him and offers it to you. 

You guys are chill. Good friends. Like. You don’t want to get up to go find a bathroom to change in. Your book is good and like Satan’s not about to be a creep, so you ask if it’s cool if you just change there, and he shrugs in response.

So, you swap shirts quickly, but when you’re dry he’s looking at you curiously.

“You have battle scars.”

You realize that you’d never told him. About your past, or your surgery, and you suddenly feel very self-conscious. 

“It’s- .. Not exactly,” you fumble out, realizing that now, instead of finishing your amazing book, you have to deal with *coming out?* Ughhhhhh. “They’re from a surgery.”

Satan’s eyes don’t leave you. “I’ve read enough about the human world to know what they are,” he said, then he nods to himself. “I didn’t know you’d had such a fight.”

You are either very, very impressed or very, very confused and you really don’t know which to lean towards just yet. 

“I’ve never been in a battle, Satan.”

“You fought to become yourself,” he answered, a small smile tracing his lips. “You never cease to impress me.”

Belphegor

The best part about becoming best friends with Belphie is the snuggle naps. It's the sweetest, calmest thing.

He is a little confused about why you insist on hugging a pillow when you nap with him, though.

He admits, its adorable. When he's big spoon he loves looking at you as you snuggle the big fluffy pillow. 

When he wants to face you, though, he wants to be closer, he doesn't really understand it. He doesn't want to make you uncomfortable but also.. why?

Eventually, he tries to get answers out of you by teasing you about getting closer *intimately*. 

He does expect the blush.

He doesn't expect the look of despair that you hide from him.

He's stunned for a moment before demanding to know why the hell you would look so sad about that.

You try to shake it off, but Belphie's nothing if not persistent and annoying when he wants to be.

He learns that you have been trying really hard for months now to hide your body from him. To keep your personal info private, even while snuggling. 

You didn't know how he would take it, after all. 

What if he got something he wasn't expecting?

Honestly, Belphie sulks after hearing this. He flicks your forehead and glares at you for doubting him. 

But he looks you dead in the eyes and reminds you that you could never convince him you were anything less than perfect.

If you expected him to be disappointed by whatever you hid during snuggles, he would never be. You would never be a disappointment to him.

Your next nap together doesn't feature the pillow between you, which makes your heart feel fit to burst while he snuggles you closer. 

[richincolor]

New Releases for the Week of May 3, 2021

It's great to see so many new books hitting the shelves this week. I know I've been waiting for several of these and am happy to be able to finally read them. 

The Ones We’re Meant to Find by Joan He Roaring Brook

Cee has been trapped on an abandoned island for three years without any recollection of how she arrived, or memories from her life prior. All she knows is that somewhere out there, beyond the horizon, she has a sister named Kay. Determined to find her, Cee devotes her days to building a boat from junk parts scavenged inland, doing everything in her power to survive until the day she gets off the island and reunites with her sister.

In a world apart, 16-year-old STEM prodigy Kasey Mizuhara is also living a life of isolation. The eco-city she calls home is one of eight levitating around the world, built for people who protected the planet―and now need protecting from it. With natural disasters on the rise due to climate change, eco-cities provide clean air, water, and shelter. Their residents, in exchange, must spend at least a third of their time in stasis pods, conducting business virtually whenever possible to reduce their environmental footprint. While Kasey, an introvert and loner, doesn’t mind the lifestyle, her sister Celia hated it. Popular and lovable, Celia much preferred the outside world. But no one could have predicted that Celia would take a boat out to sea, never to return.

Now it’s been three months since Celia’s disappearance, and Kasey has given up hope. Logic says that her sister must be dead. But as the public decries her stance, she starts to second guess herself and decides to retrace Celia’s last steps. Where they’ll lead her, she does not know. Her sister was full of secrets. But Kasey has a secret of her own. — Cover image and summary via Goodreads

Meet Cute Diary by Emery Lee Quill Tree Books

Noah Ramirez thinks he’s an expert on romance. He has to be for his popular blog, the Meet Cute Diary, a collection of trans happily ever afters. There’s just one problem—all the stories are fake. What started as the fantasies of a trans boy afraid to step out of the closet has grown into a beacon of hope for trans readers across the globe.

When a troll exposes the blog as fiction, Noah’s world unravels. The only way to save the Diary is to convince everyone that the stories are true, but he doesn’t have any proof. Then Drew walks into Noah’s life, and the pieces fall into place: Drew is willing to fake-date Noah to save the Diary. But when Noah’s feelings grow beyond their staged romance, he realizes that dating in real life isn’t quite the same as finding love on the page.

In this charming novel by Emery Lee, Noah will have to choose between following his own rules for love or discovering that the most romantic endings are the ones that go off script. — Cover image and summary via Goodreads

They Better Call Me Sugar: My Journey from the Hood to the Hardwood by Sugar Rodgers Black Sheep

Growing up in dire poverty in Suffolk, Virginia, Sugar (born Ta’Shauna) Rodgers never imagined that she would become an all-star player in the WNBA (Women’s National Basketball Association). Both of her siblings were in and out of prison throughout much of her childhood and shootings in her neighborhood were commonplace. For Sugar this was just a fact of life.

While academics wasn’t a high priority for Sugar and many of her friends, athletics always played a prominent role. She mastered her three-point shot on a net her brother put up just outside their home, eventually becoming so good that she could hustle local drug dealers out of money in one-on-one contests.

With the love and support of her family and friends, Sugar’s performance on her high school basketball team led to her recruitment by the Georgetown Hoyas, and her eventual draft into the WNBA in 2013 by the Minnesota Lynx (who won the WNBA Finals in Sugar’s first year). The first of her family to attend college, Sugar speaks of her struggles both academically and as an athlete with raw honesty.

Sugar’s road to a successful career as a professional basketball player is fraught with sadness and death–including her mother’s death when she’s fourteen, which leaves Sugar essentially homeless. Throughout it all, Sugar clings to basketball as a way to keep herself focused and sane.

And now Sugar shares her story as a message of hope and inspiration for young girls and boys everywhere, but especially those growing up in economically challenging conditions. Never sugarcoating her life experiences, she delivers a powerful message of discipline, perseverance, and always believing in oneself. — Cover image and summary via Goodreads

Excuse Me While I Ugly Cry by Joya Goffney HarperTeen

Quinn keeps lists of everything—from the days she’s ugly cried, to “Things That I Would Never Admit Out Loud,” to all the boys she’d like to kiss. Her lists keep her sane. By writing her fears on paper, she never has to face them in real life. That is, until her journal goes missing…

An anonymous account posts one of her lists on Instagram for the whole school to see and blackmails her into facing seven of her greatest fears, or else her entire journal will go public. Quinn doesn’t know who to trust. Desperate, she teams up with Carter Bennett—the last known person to have her journal—in a race against time to track down the blackmailer.

Together, they journey through everything Quinn’s been too afraid to face, and along the way, Quinn finds the courage to be honest, to live in the moment, and to fall in love. — Cover image and summary via Goodreads

Hurricane Summer by Asha Bromfield Wednesday Books

Tilla has spent her entire life trying to make her father love her. But every six months, he leaves their family and returns to his true home: the island of Jamaica.

When Tilla’s mother tells her she’ll be spending the summer on the island, Tilla dreads the idea of seeing him again, but longs to discover what life in Jamaica has always held for him.

In an unexpected turn of events, Tilla is forced to face the storm that unravels in her own life as she learns about the dark secrets that lie beyond the veil of paradise—all in the midst of an impending hurricane.

Hurricane Summer is a powerful coming of age story that deals with colorism, classism, young love, the father-daughter dynamic—and what it means to discover your own voice in the center of complete destruction. — Cover image and summary via Goodreads

Indivisible by Daniel Aleman Little, Brown Books for Young Readers

There is a word Mateo Garcia and his younger sister Sophie have been taught to fear for as long as they can remember: deportation. Over the past few years, however, the fear that their undocumented immigrant parents could be sent back to Mexico has started to fade to the back of their minds. And why wouldn’t it, when their Ma and Pa have been in the United States for so long, they have American-born children, and they’re hard workers and good neighbors?

When two ICE agents come asking for Pa, the Garcia family realizes that the lives they’ve built are about to come crumbling down. And when Mateo returns from school one day to find that his parents have been taken, he’ll have to come to terms with the fact that his family’s worst nightmare has become a reality.

With his Ma and Pa being held in separate detention centers, Mateo must learn how to look after his sister and himself. The choices Mateo makes, and the people he turns to for help, might reunite his family… or tear them apart for good. With his parents’ fate and his own future hanging in the balance, Mateo must figure out who he is and what he is capable of, even as he’s forced to question what it means to be an American teenager in a country that rejects his own mom and dad. — Cover art and summary via Goodreads

Counting Down with You by Tashie Bhuiyan Inkyard Press

Karina Ahmed has a plan. Keep her head down, get through high school without a fuss, and follow her parents’ rules—even if it means sacrificing her dreams. When her parents go abroad to Bangladesh for four weeks, Karina expects some peace and quiet. Instead, one simple lie unravels everything.

Karina is my girlfriend.

Tutoring the school’s resident bad boy was already crossing a line. Pretending to date him? Out of the question. But Ace Clyde does everything right—he brings her coffee in the mornings, impresses her friends without trying, and even promises to buy her a dozen books (a week) if she goes along with his fake-dating facade. Though Karina agrees, she can’t help but start counting down the days until her parents come back.

T-minus twenty-eight days until everything returns to normal—but what if Karina no longer wants it to? — Cover image and summary via Goodreads

All Kinds of Other by James Sie Quill Tree Books

In this tender, nuanced coming-of-age love story, two boys—one who is cis and one who is trans—have been guarding their hearts to protect themselves, until their feelings for each other give them a reason to stand up to their fears.

Two boys are starting at a new school.

Jules is just figuring out what it means to be gay and hasn’t totally decided whether he wants to be out at his new school. His parents and friends have all kinds of opinions, but for his part, Jules just wants to make the basketball team and keep his head down.

Jack is trying to start over after a best friend break-up. He followed his actor father clear across the country to LA, but he’s also totally ready to leave his past behind. Maybe this new school where no one knows him is exactly what he needs.

When the two boys meet, the sparks are undeniable. But then a video surfaces linking Jack to a pair of popular transgender vloggers, and the revelations about Jack’s past thrust both Jack and Jules into the spotlight they’ve been trying to avoid. Suddenly both boys have a choice to make—between lying low where it’s easier or following their hearts. — Cover image and summary via Goodreads

Luck of the Titanic by Stacey Lee G.P. Putnam's Sons Books for Young Readers

Southampton, 1912: Seventeen-year-old British-Chinese Valora Luck has quit her job and smuggled herself aboard the Titanic with two goals in mind: to reunite with her twin brother Jamie--her only family now that both their parents are dead--and to convince a part-owner of the Ringling Brothers Circus to take the twins on as acrobats. Quick-thinking Val talks her way into opulent firstclass accommodations and finds Jamie with a group of fellow Chinese laborers in third class. But in the rigidly stratified world of the luxury liner, Val's ruse can only last so long, and after two long years apart, it's unclear if Jamie even wants the life Val proposes. Then, one moonless night in the North Atlantic, the unthinkable happens--the supposedly unsinkable ship is dealt a fatal blow--and Val and her companions suddenly find themselves in a race to survive.

Stacey Lee, master of historical fiction, brings a fresh perspective to an infamous tragedy, loosely inspired by the recently uncovered account of six Titanic survivors of Chinese descent.

[amindofstone]

Match up, No. 3

Anon said:

ooh, if you're interested I'd love a match up! male char please 💖

I'm a 25yo trans man from a really rough background, but I'm really calm and peaceful and I spend a lot of my free time crafting. I'm pretty quiet and reserved around people, but tend to come out of my shell around my best friend! I like fishing in the ocean, doing yoga, and ranting about my special interests 💖💖💖

5'6, stocky, black fluffy hair and scruff, blue eyes!

a/n: Hi there! Thanks for your request and I really hope that you´ll like with what I came up with. If you don´t, please tell me and I try my best to give you what you want. Like I mentioned it also on the other requests I am new to this and really unsure of my work in general. And going honest I´m absolutely not satisfied with the outcome of this one. So please feel free to give me a honest feedback. Other than that I hope I am able to light up your day/eve just a little bit. Happy reading dear anon! (You have blue eyes?! OMG! If I´d know you in person I would probably tell you every damn minute how much I love them. And the combination of black hair and blue eyes! ARgH!! So beautiful!)

Match up rules can be found HERE.

Warning(s): A tiny bit of cursing but nothing to worry about. + Maybe grammatical or spelling mistakes since English is my third language and I´m still improving in every aspect (Please have mercy on that.)

!!! Please do not steal my idea or work. Credit me if this is shared or published in any other platform or any other way. Please respect me as the writer and my work. Picture is not mine. Credits to: Lord knows who. IF anyone knows who did it please tell me so I can give credits. Thank you. :) !!!

· Alright my dear anon. After thinking about who knows how long and after rewriting this a bunch of times I decided to pair you up with a character that slowly takes over my entire heart (although someone else is already occupying it. LOL).

· I´m talking about our aggressive, reckless and rude Eustass Kid

· As you might know Kid is the definition of LOUD. He tends to yell around the ship for absolutely no reason just to annoy the hell out of you because he knows how much it makes you mad

· The first day on the ship of the Kid pirates was quiet calm and chilly. Killer introduced you to the crew and showed you around. After a while he excused himself and said that he will be preparing dinner. You thanked him and made your way towards your cabin he showed you and started unpacking. At the dinner with the crew you got to know more about the Kid pirates and their dream to find the One Piece. That being said you heard your Captain tell his crew how he will become the pirate king and how strong and powerful he is.

· You on your side were quiet and just looked around the place with a smile

· With time passing you got closer with every person on the Victoria Punk but the captain

· There are a lot of times where Killer, Heat or someone else had to stop you two from killing each other. There is absolutely not even one day passing where you two don´t end up arguing over the simplest things. Every time you two end up in one room the crew is ready to jump in when another arguing ends up getting to dangerous

· One time you even saw how Killer looked like he was about to jump on you when you came up on deck. You asked him if he wanted to kill you but he answered with a calm voice that he was preparing himself for another fight of you and the captain just in case it escalates again.

· It was at daytime when the Victoria Punk was attacked by the Marine and endured pretty many damages unlike the crew that had no serious injuries. So everyone that was able to help out fixing all the damaged or destroyed places helped out including you and Kid. And this was the moment you and him got closer. You had normal conversations and even joked around what caused the crew to all gather on deck just to make sure that they weren’t dreaming or something

· You two worked together without a problem as if you two knew each other a long time. The rebuilding of the ship went smooth and fast. It made Kid wonder how you were so good in crafting since it was you two that took care of the majority of the damages

· So one day he barged into your cabin just to find you sitting on the floor and working on something. He didn´t give a damn on what you were doing and just asked you (ordered you by yelling) to help him finish repairing his metal arm

· “No. Now leave and close the door.”

· “TF is wrong with you?! Now get your ass in my workshop.”,

· “No, because you didn´t say please.”

· “AHHHHH. I´M GONNA KILL YOU, YOU FCKING RAT. I´M YOUR CAPTAIN AND THAT´S A ORDER!”

· “Look at this face. Does it look like it gives a damn? Huh? No! Exactly. If you want something from me than be nice or go and ask someone else.”

· After yelling at you and insulting you with anything that came up in his mind he said please and got you to help him. While working on his arm you managed to start a conversation without insulting or provoking each other.

· The friendship of you two was really unique and absolutely not to understand. At one time the crew would find you fight and minutes later you two would be sitting at the railing talking while fishing. Kid has a difficult personality that makes it really hard to understand him and his decisions at some point. He is pretty reckless and does not hesitate to kill or blow someone’s head away when he needed to or wanted to. But still you two were getting along

· In fact Kid would never admit it but he likes to have you around because of your calm and peaceful aura and personality. It was nice having someone like that around. It made him relax and calm his nerves

Bonus:

· You were currently on an island getting some supplies you were out of stock.

· Everything and everyone was doing good although there was a vice admiral on the island as well. You remembered Killer saying probably more than 5 times that they had to be careful and make sure that no marine recognized them.

· The group of people that were in charge for getting the supplies including Kid who accompanied them were close to the ship when Kid thought why not cause a little action since he was bored.

· So it came that he was about to use his power to get the belt of the vice admiral out of his pants when you dropped everything in your hands and drop kicked him

· “I KNEW YOU WOULD DO SOMETHING STUPID!!!”

· So it came that whenever Kid was about to do something stupid or after he did something, he would get drop kicked by you and sometimes even Killer

[goldenchan-fx2thepeacock]

Don’t Go Running Off Into Danger, Even If I Do pt 2

So, I have no clue what a publishing schedule is. So here, have more of this dumb fic at 11 pm. FUCK SLEEP! SLEEP IS FOR THE WEAK!

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Chapter 2

Danny and Jazz managed to finish just in time to put everything away before their parents got home. He’d actually managed to have a ghost free night. But the peace wasn’t going to last. And this wasn’t about ghosts. He got slammed into his locker.  “Hey look, it’s Fenturd. What’s with the dumb picture of Phantom? You’ll never be on his level,” Dash said and laughter broke out. Danny groaned. At least they didn’t know he was trans. He’d be beaten twice as much if they knew. The locker door closed and locked.  “Seriously Dash? I have to get to class!” He yelled through the metal.  “Whatever Fentina. No one cares! Oh hey, it’s fresh meat!” Dash went away from Danny’s locker. Danny had found out a way to make it so he could open his locker from the inside without it being outerwardly compromised. He jumped out. It was those kids from last night.  “Leave them alone Dash. They haven’t even been here for a day yet. The rules are that newbies get a probation period,” Danny crossed his arms.  “I don’t know Fentoenail. Would you like to take their beating?” Dash mocked him. Danny sighed. He’d have to do this.  “Any day,” 

Danny regretted everything. Dash had hit him twice as hard as normal and his locker trick wasn’t working. Everything hurt. He was going to miss Lancer’s class. At least his ghost sense wasn’t going off or something. Lancer wouldn’t miss him. Suddenly, his locker opened and he tumbled out. He yelped. “Are you okay?” The girl twin said.  “No worse than what I’m used to,” Danny brushed himself off.  “You didn’t have to do that,” The boy twin told Danny. “Yeah, I kinda did. The probation period is sacred. Dash knows that,” “Probation period?” The boy said. “A rule we made up last year. If Dash really wants to break it, I take the beating instead. Fenton gets to take the beating so the new kids don’t have to,”  “That’s not fair. You should report him,” “Nah, he threw like four perfect throws last night and is exempt from punishment,”  “Football?” The boy gave Danny a knowing look.  “Danielle- I mean Daniel Fenton to the main office,” The loud speaker said. “Oh come on! At least it was probably just a misread,” Danny was fuming. The beating plus being deadnamed was getting on his nerves. “We have to head there too,” The girl said. Danny shrugged and let them follow him.

Lancer called them all in at once. “Sup Lancer. Can I help you?” Danny leaned against the wall. “Mr Fenton. You and I both know that you need to show me more respect. W-what happened to you?” Lancer looked up from his papers. “Just a certain football star. Nothing I can’t handle. He broke the probation period,” “That’s a rule between students. I have no need to enforce it,” Lancer sighed. “I have no clue why you of all people were chosen for this, but you are too be Mr and Ms Pines guide around the school,” “Jazz not good enough for you? Had to pick the ‘slacker’ Fenton?” “Daniel, mind your tone. Jazz is our top student,”  “We all know I’m destined to fail in life. Can I get their timetables?” “Yes of course. Listen Danny, both you and I know you’re capable of better grades. I don’t understand why you don’t try,” Danny wasn’t in the mood for Lancer’s pep talks.  “I’ve got more important things to worry about,” Danny grabbed the papers and stalked off with the Pines Twins on his heels.  “Why didn’t he do anything about Dash?” the boy asked. “He has no reason to. Not like I’m about to ask,” Danny handed them their timetables. He’d seen that the girl was named Mabel and the boy Mason. “We’ll start with your classes Mason,”  “I prefer Dipper,” “I’m not calling you by a dumb nickname. Let’s go,” Danny growled.

Just as he was about to lead Mason to his first class, a royal pain in his ass showed up. “Daniel! I require your assistance, little badger,” “It’s bound to be another plan to get in my mom’s pants. Go away,”  “Now, don’t be like that. I’m the mayor after all. You should be honored,” “Plasmius, shut your goddamn mouth. I. Don’t. Give. A. Fuck,” Danny said so that only Vlad could hear.  “Well, something’s got you in a tizzy. I’ll ask later. I should tell you though, it’s about Danielle,” “What did you do to Dani?” Fury. Wait, he had to get the kids to class.  “Nothing. It wasn’t me. You should ask your ghost hunter girlfriend,” Vlad grinned. Fucking Valerie.  “Come on kids. You’ve got to get to class,” Danny ignored Plasmius. Valerie was going to die. 

At lunch, he purposefully turned into Phantom and waited for Valerie on top of the school. She took no time at all. “What. Did. You. Do. To. Dani,” He glared at her.  “I didn’t do anything to her! You’re going down ghost!” “Am I really?” Danny was pissed. She wasn’t getting any mercy today. He teleported behind her.  “What the... HOW?” “Where is she?!” He growled. “What do you care? She’s always off on her own,”  “Does it look like I care Valerie?!”  “How did you know?!” “I know more than you seem to think. Tell me where Dani is. NOW!” He froze her feet. She looked terrified.  “What’s wrong with you!? Why do you care so much about her? Ghosts don’t have feelings,” Danny lost it at that point. The laughter was dark. Hollow. Horrible. Val’s terror was visible.  “Don’t have feelings? DON’T HAVE FEELINGS? FUCK YOU! I’M SO TIRED OF ALL THIS!” “Phantom, calm down,” Val was terrified. Danny wasn’t done. The rings were threatening to come down and expose him to her.  “So you admit this is real? Would you like to know how it feels to die Val? How it feels to live on the line between life and death? Wait, I can’t do that! You don’t have a deactivated portal in your basement that I can make you turn on while your inside. I don’t have a stupid jumpsuit with your dad’s face on it so I can take off the that sticker. You don’t have parents that threaten to rip you apart molecule by molecule for just exsisting! You don’t have to see a future where you become evil because you cheated on one test and your family all died! Can you even begin to comprehend what I go through? Ever been cloned? And forced to do something incredibly painful so that one clone can get fixed and watch another get lied too? And that’s just the brunt of it Valerie. Keep telling me how I don’t feel. How I’m nothing!” Danny screamed at ice engulfed their feet. Val’s eyes went wide.  “D-Danny?” She said quietly. “Congratulations! You aren’t as niave as the rest of Amity Park! How does it feel?” He’d snapped. “Calm down! I’ll tell you where Dani is!” She shrieked. That hollow laugh came back. But instead of an angry rant afterwards, he just sunk to his knees and screamed. It wasn’t a wail. It was a scream of pain. Of being done with the world.  “I can’t do this anymore,” He sobbed and the rings went down. All that was left now was a beaten, broken Danny Fenton.  “You should change back. I’ll take you to Dani,” Danny nodded and followed her.  “Sorry I broke down. I’m just sick of people telling me that I can’t feel. That all ghosts can’t feel. You don’t even bother talking to us, ya know?” “Ghosts lie,” “And so do people! I’ve talked to the ghosts. Listened to them. Heard their stories. I protect people, but I protect them too!” “How do you know those aren’t just acts?” “Cause they make sense. I’d have the same response if it was me. If my parents burned down the place I was in because I got caught being gay,” “I’m confused,” “Ember. I told her I wouldn’t tell anyone. But you need to know that they all have reasons for being the way they are. Skulker’s family was hunted, so now he hunts to prove his strength,” “Maybe we should talk to you more,”  “Maybe you should. No one asks to die,” “But your parents say that ghosts don’t remember their lives. They’re the leading experts,”  “That’s like putting a ten year old in a room of babies. They’re the expert by default in that situation, but an adult would be the expert the moment they walked in,” “Why don’t we know about that,” “Dying is traumatizing. Even half dying is traumatizing. It’s taboo to mention it unless you’re told. No one explains it until they’re ready. And talking about a life before that is almost wrong,” “How did you learn?” “Skulker told me during the Christmas Truce. Ember told me one day when she just wanted to be left alone, but I did too. I guess things end up working out in weird ways,” “The Christmas Truce?” “On Christmas Eve and Christmas, ghosts have a truce. No one is allowed to fight anyone that day. The Ghost Writer broke the truce and Walker got to haul him off in just means,” “We really know nothing about ghosts, do we?” “No, you don’t. They even have a party. I got invited last year. Skulker let me make the star! It took me weeks to get it right,” Danny smiled at the memory. He’d made a scale model of a blue giant that went through it’s life stages.  “So there’s a whole society?” “A government. Systems. Main rules. Taboos. Just cause we’re ghosts, doesn’t mean we don’t have a system,” “I’m sorry,” “What?” Danny nearly froze. “I’m sorry that I made so many assumptions. I never should’ve chased you or any ghost like that,” “Keep them out of Amity Park and send them back to the Zone. Most ghosts forget that living is dangerous, so they just rampage. I keep trying to talk sense into them, but they’re pretty stubborn,”  “What about the dog?” “Dog? You mean Cujo? I was trying to stop him from trashing Axiom. He was trying to get a toy. I’m sorry that recked your life Val,” “My life? Wrecked? When compared to you, my life is a dream. It’s not like I died,” “I guess you’ve got a point,”

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Thanks for reading. I just like fics where Val finds out, and this one seemed like an okay place to stick it. Dani is fine. I’ll fill you in on that next chapter, but I should get some sleep.