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junebugwriter · 6 months

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Imposter Syndrome and the Transgender Experience

A personal account of a common occurrence

“Look to your left. Now look to your right. You see all these people?” asked my university dean at orientation. “Each one of you that is in this room right now has earned it. This isn’t a prank, yes, you actually are qualified to be here. We didn’t make a mistake. You are NOT impostors.”

This was the first thing that I heard upon entry into the Ph.D. program at my university. I thought at the time that this was a very kind thing to hear, for a class of people (academics) who in general often feel that they are out of their depth. I know I certainly needed to hear it. I thought I had blundered my way into the program, fooling everyone with my academic knowledge. Sure, I had wanted to be a Ph.D. for years, felt called to teaching, felt that I knew that I would be well equipped for academic life—but how are THEY sure about it? How do I know they aren’t just lying to me? How do I know they aren’t just humoring me, the class joke whom they trained wrong on purpose, as a prank?

I, of course, should have listened. I should have internalized it. I should have grown enough self-worth in my core that could withstand such anxiety. Yet still, 5 years on, and I still wonder how the hell I managed to fool everyone. Sure, I aced my classes, aced my comprehensive exams, and am in the revision phase of my dissertation, but none of that means that I actually am qualified to earn that Ph.D., right?

You see how silly this is. How narcissistic it is in practice. I am not the star of the Truman Show. I am not the center of the universe, the fool upon which the whole of humanity is arrayed against in mockery and jest.

Nobody cares enough to do that to a person. Nobody at all.

You are not an imposter. People aren’t fooled. Your identity is valid.

I have been thinking about this recently and decided that I needed to put some of these thoughts on paper, partly as a therapeutic measure, but also because I think I’m not alone. I don’t think I’m alone in feeling like an impostor, thinking that everyone else has it all figured out and I’m the lone monkey that’s going to gum up the works with my incompetence and buffoonery. This isn’t just about professional impostor syndrome, either. No, that was simply an entry point into the thing that has got me wound up: my feeling like an impostor, and my gender identity.

Chief Clown at the Gender Circus, I Am Not

I am very new to all this, to be honest.

Allow me to begin this by saying that I am not an expert in gender, gender studies, or anything like that. My academic focus is on the field of theology and ethics, with a smattering of disability advocacy mixed in there; diving headfirst into the gender pool is an enterprise that frankly terrifies me. I am quite new to discussing gender and gender identity. For a matter of fact, I am new to the idea that I even have a gender with which to discuss! It is woven into the fabric of our society and relationships that, in all honesty, most people don’t even consider gender expression a thing worth dwelling on for any longer than it takes to look at oneself in the mirror and say “Yeah, that’s about right. I’m okay with this whole thing that I have going on.” Most people do not experience gender disparity or gender variance within themselves.

So how do you go about seriously discussing gender with most people? And how do you express the concept, for most of your life, you feel like there is something wrong with your identity in a way that doesn’t make you sound crazy? That you’ve been playing along to a game that has been going on far longer than you’ve been alive, assigned a role that you might be ill-fitted for, and expected to live up to that role whether you enjoy it or not?

If you can imagine how that feels, you are doing better than most people. From birth, you are given a role based on whatever biological arrangement your body appears to be, and if it doesn’t clearly do so (like for our intersex siblings) sometimes, a doctor performs surgery so that it does more neatly align with the binary.1 For most people, this is an unspoken social contract. Humans love binaries and categories, and putting things in boxes for handy storage. The problem is that life in its infinite complexity rarely conforms to boxes and neat categories. Ask any biologist, they will tell you that taxonomic systems rarely obey the dictates of scientists. Humanity is no different, and being human, we exist in endless and varied gradients of being.

But enough waxing poetic. The problem for me, and for many who are trans, is that the role we were assigned at birth doesn’t fit right. Either our “biology”2 is at odds with our identity, or we simply don’t align with either end if the binary. Some go as far as to say they are agender, or even inhabit multiple genders! Presentation, identity, and gender are not necessarily bound by a biological component, and once you get to the point that you can accept that truth, you get to be in for another surprise:

That was just the beginning.

The Deeper End of the Gender Pool

What I have said thus far is but a taste of the kind of reality that I and my trans cohort inhabit. Additionally, not every trans person is an expert. I’m certainly not an expert. All we have is our minds, the words that might help us express our identities, and the common understanding of the experience of gender variance. (I haven’t even read Judith Butler’s Gender Trouble yet, but I promise it’s on my reading list.) Yet, no matter how long you live out and proudly as your true self, one question still lingers in the mind of just about every 3trans person:

Am I trans enough? Am I really trans? Or am I just fooling myself, and everyone around me is playing along to be nice?

It’s a question that haunts me. It’s the fear of being found out, a fear that has existed in the back of our minds since birth. Why? Because all our lives, we HAVE been impostors, just the other way around. I was an impostor of a “man,” fooled into thinking I HAD to be one, and then got conned into trying to live up to that role. I’ve been fooling everyone ever since! Oh, you think I’m a guy? Even though I don’t really think like a guy? Or act like a guy? Just because I had a beard and a deep voice, and because my genes got washed in testosterone during adolescence, that does not make me a man.

Manhood is a strange thing to me, because it never seems to have a clear definition. There are stereotypes of manliness and manhood, and those tropes and stereotypes are rigidly enforced by society, but at the same time it felt like the rules kept changing, kept moving out of the way each time I tried to connect with it. Manhood was a concept that felt like mercury to me: liquid, elusive, and potentially toxic.

Yet womanhood? Femininity? Well. That’s something else entirely.

Femininity was the threat, and the punishment. The label that was foisted upon those who could not sufficiently perform “manliness.” It was the constant taunt by both child and adult alike in my youth. “Come on, boys don’t cry!” “Stop being such a girl!” And so forth. I don’t care to reproduce all the slurs that usually followed after such taunts and jeers. They inevitably came anyway.

Transphobia and homophobia might as well have been in the very air I breathed growing up in Texas. Internalizing that transphobia was the natural result of that, along with heaping amounts of shame and guilt. Shame for not being able to inhabit my gender correctly. Guilt for letting down my peers, as well as the adults in my life. I internalized the shame and guilt to such an extent that at times I feel like nothing but a shame factory, unable to process the joy that life can offer.

After I began this process of coming out, since my “gender epiphany,” I’ve slowly begun to find joy and euphoria. A lot of it was buried underneath decades of shame. Yet despite the still-extant mountains of guilt in my psyche, coming out has allowed me the agency and ability to start digging my way out of it. Tiny pinpricks of light have burst into the darkness that was my life, and I owe that to me figuring out that my gender and my sex were at odds. The things that gave me joy were not allowed for me when I was under the impression that I was a man.

I simply wasn’t a man, and no amount of insisting I was one would ever change that interior variance of being.

But could I ever really be a woman?

Now that’s a very different prospect.

20,000 Leagues into the Closet

We live in an era now of unprecedented and violent transphobia, and I picked a hell of a time to figure out that I am trans. Trans people used to mostly be a curiosity, a quirky subset of the queer community. Now, though? As more people learn what trans people are—or THINK they learn what trans people are as filtered through the transphobia lens—the more danger we are in. And it’s hard not to internalize this transphobia all the more.

“Why am I doing this to myself? Why do I think that I would ever be able to call myself a woman? What makes me think I can change myself enough to reflect who I am inside? For people to see me as I really am?” The questions dig deeper and deeper, that voice of shame and guilt grows louder and louder. “Who do you think you are? What makes you so special that you can put on makeup and a dress, take hormones, and grow your hair out—do you think any of that gives you the right to be a woman? You’re just a fake. An impostor. A freak in a dress, who is doing it just for the attention and amusement of yourself.”

“You will NEVER be a woman.”

And there it is. The most potent weapon in the transphobe’s arsenal. The thing they parrot constantly at any kind of gender variant person, specifically transfeminine people like me. You will never be the thing that you are inside. You have a sickness, a delusion, and you are a danger to yourself and others. You are insane, and we shouldn’t humor this kind of behavior.

The thing I have to say to this winding, twisted rhetoric that burrows into my skull is this:

Who are you to say what I am?

Who are you to say that I cannot be the person I am on the inside? It’s not like you were humoring me much when I was pretending to be a man for 35 years. All I got for the bulk of that time was “man up!” I was always more comfortable around women than men, I was never “one of the guys” and everyone kind of knew it already! Hell, I was an Eagle Scout; I got an awarded rank for being the best boy! Yet still, masculinity eluded me. So why try so hard to be something I clearly am not, when femininity is something that comes so much more naturally to me?

It does, too! This year, each new thing I’ve tried that is more feminine—makeup, nail polish, fashion—it all seems to fit like a glove, like I have a natural aptitude for it that was lying beneath the surface all this time. All of the trappings of female-ness that I have attempted are just more... me.

Femininity is not defined by outward appearance or secondary characteristics, however. The truth of it is that being a woman comes naturally to me because I am one. And even when I’m presenting to the world a more masculine face, that does not take one iota away from my womanhood. A woman is still a woman without makeup and a dress. A woman simply is what she is, and that’s so much deeper than even the hormones can affect. That’s a level of identity that cannot be taken away.

Impostor syndrome is an insidious cancer within a trans person, borne of internalized transphobia and a lifetime of shame. It affects all of us in the trans community, because we all have lived as impostors for so long, becoming our authentic selves feels alien to an extent. But it is in our authentic selves that we find our true joy, our true happiness.

To any trans people reading this, I implore you to internalize this message, if nothing else: You are enough. You are not fooling anyone. You are who you are, and nobody gets to determine that but you. And they can hurl all the insults they want at you, they can shut you in a closet so deep you can’t see the light, but they cannot take away your identity. That is your own, your truth. Truth cannot be erased so easily. You are trans enough, if you know yourself to be trans.

For anyone else who has journeyed this far with me through this account, thank you for your patience and willingness to listen. I hope that, if any of this has resonated within you, that you ponder this and learn more about what it means to be transgender, at least so that you can be better informed about the lives of us queer, wonderful, beautiful people. Most of us are an open book, and would love to tell you about our journeys. But most of all, believe us when we show you are true selves. Such is an act of supreme trust and vulnerability. Listen to us, our fears, and our joys.

Because the truth is the same for you as it is for my trans siblings: you are enough. Don’t allow the world to tell you otherwise. You are you, and that is the most important truth in this whole world.

You are enough.

There are articles too numerous to count about the injustices done to intersex children, but this article gives you an idea of the situation. Link

People much more informed about the biological component of gender have a great deal to say about the subject, and I will let them speak for themselves. Suffice it to say, the biology is far from clear, what you learned about in 6th grade health is not exactly the best science available, and we are always learning more each day about the biological reality of sex and gender. Harvard is a good place to start: Here

Impostor syndrome is so prevalent in the transgender community, it even has an entry in the dang Gender Dysphoria Bible! I don’t want to cover the same territory, a more detached analysis of it can be found there. This is simply a personal take on the topic. Link: Here

#transgender #impostor #blog #long post #impostor syndrome #lgbtqia+#trans

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siryouarebeingmocked · 2 years

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https://sprinkledsalt.tumblr.com/post/690978335240699904/this-thread-is-too-long-to-have-here-in-its / https://archive.ph/3sZ9A "You used a single conversational English word in your tags, so that's a good reason to call you a liar, even though every criticism of Lundy Bancroft you made is backed up with easily-verifiable evidence and totally in line with everything else he's ever said, including the book I just quoted. I am totally not making up excuses to ignore your criticism of my husbando's lolgic and my double standards, and I totally would've listened to you if you hadn't used that one tag. Which is why I can't actually rebut anything you're saying, and basically just attack you, personally, based on misandric stereotypes, and say Bancroft is an expert and therefore right because he has a lot of experience.

It's not like I went out of my way to post and agree with someone else's sexist rant so I could pretend female-on-male abuse doesn't really exist or anything. Which is why the notes exclusively contain people who agree with me.

I somehow missed the part where Bancroft explicitly says men claiming they were abused should all be disbelieved by default, and rationalized it as ‘he’s just telling people what he saw’ even though I literally quoted from “Why does he do that?” a book that openly genders abusive relationships from the title and I ignored the dozens of studies and surveys you linked to which disagree with him.

I am totally unaware of the fact that the term "misandry" is a century old, and probably am not even sure what 'bad faith' means. I probably think it's just a smart way of saying 'people who are bad'." -sprinkledsalt, 2022

#abuse #domestic violence #stupid #irony #lundy bancroft #hypocrite #sprinkledsalt #teamBlocked #Johnny Depp #doublethink #crazy #feminism #MRAs #oh snap #logical fallacies

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galenathewitch · 2 years

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Binary~

This weekend i had dinner with some old colleagues. During it the topic of gender identity came up.

THE DREADED TOPIC OF THE XXI CENTURY! *faints like an overly corseted lady*

The main topic was regarding a couple that decided to, on a gender reveal party, reveal their child as non-binary. All my female colleagues were outraged. Actually outraged, as silly as that sounds.

I have my own thoughts about it of course: i believe it is no different than forcing normative rules upon children when they can't even say their own names, both points cancel each other out in my eyes, therefore thinking about it is an exercise in futility, like an hamster running on a wheel until it tires itself out. Furthermore, as a childless woman approaching her 30s i feel it's not my place to give opinions on it - as our society so lovingly treats us as if we have little to no value i prefer to continue acting like the old crone witch i expect to become and let society eat itself up while i brew my teas and praise the Hellenic god in peace.

I simply do not care about making a stand either way. Still, if they're is one thing i do not condone is close mindedness. So it does make me feel like raising questions at least:

Why should they care? It's not their child. They might not agree but how does it impact them directly? It's not a human rights violation, it's not child endangerment...

Gender reveal parties are an absolute waste of time. Why even give it value?

Are they so outraged because they fear that their own children, hypothetically, will find it difficulty to deal with other non-binary children? Isn't that inputting your own morals on your children as well?

And when I thought the topic couldn't get more awkward... Someone suddenly states they "don't understand non-binary" and therefore it makes no sense for it to have value or even be considered a thing. (I paraphrase)

So...

If i don't understand mental illness does that mean it shouldn't be a thing? (it'd be nice if it wasn't but thems the breaks)

If i doing understand how the world can be round it shouldn't be a thing? Guess i found out how flat-earthers are born...

Just because you not understanding something it shouldn't make it impossible for others who do. Have your opinions but be willing to accept others as well.

Here is where i actually decided to explain what the concept of non binary is as factually as i was able. There was more confusion as I expected. Some more outrage as well.

I am in no ways an expert as i consider myself a cis-female and have no non-binary friends. What I do is roam the internet frequently. What i do is also study/research into anything related to psychology or brain development. What i do is listen when people talk and try to place myself in their shoes. And what i do not condone is unwillingness to accept that which is different. THAT i know the feeling of. It does not feel good. It does not feel right.

I also know what it feels like to not want to be a woman and to not be referred to as such. The weight of womanhood is one that is heavy to hold. I know how it is to be treated by when people don't know my gender versus when they do (business emails are one example), and how being seen as neither sex could prepare ease that burden. This is in no way my way of saying i understand what it is to be non binary but that i understand reasons why some people might navigate towards it

There was also then the discussion that "they" is not a correct pronoun. I won't lie... this one was when i cracked as the little grammar nazi i am and immediately went on a grammar testing moment. (Bear in mind none of us are native English speakers and there isn't a "right" word for non binary people that sounds correct in our language - latin languages can be a pain in that regard - this is not the case with Germanic languages though.

Fortunately outrage and confusion suddenly stopped as food was promptly served to the table.

If there's one thing we could all agree on, as latin blooded people, is that at least food is a good way to end conflicts 🍝🏳️

#gender #society #nonbinary #societal problems #witches of tumblr

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terrisartwork · 1 year

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how 2 reveal that you're transgender

so you walk up to someone and you're like "hey, i'm transgender. i want to be a girl and i always felt this way and the repression of such a thing is a massive source of anxiety to me." and the other person is like "cool, i'll support you with that. in fact, i'll help you be able to attain the changes that you want to make you feel more like yourself." everything goes okay, all that anxiety, whoof, gone.

[no wait, turns out that the world isn't like that, uh.]

now it turns out that if you reveal this to someone then they're like "a-wahhhhhh!" like that one guy out of jaws (1975), and then some people are like "wait, how do we explain this. hang on. this confronts my views of gender so much, actually. wah?" so then it turns out that you're now a part of a satanic conspiracy theory or something, or where it turns out, turns out that you're transness has so many other causes other than just it being a thing. what is transgender really? then you listen to a bunch of perversely sympathetic statements by people who have now declared themselves experts on transness!

the person is like "i'm okay with my boys playing with dolls as long as they're boys but then this person comes in, didn't even play with dolls that much as a child, and now they're like "oh i want to transform into a girl, i realised that this was a massive source of anxiety." nonsense!" and now you have to go through trials to really prove it. i mean it's self-evident to you but now you have to prove it. turns out that you were not transgender this entire time but that... you're something else, what could that be? so now this doctor is all like "hmm, yes. this juxtaposition that i will become obsessed with regarding transgender women. i think this entire time i should call them a guy. hmm, yes." and yeah, you know.

doctor pulls out a chart condescendingly explaining basic sex ed to you. "now." the doctor says. "men produce sperm and women get pregnant. this is how our society is structured. here, you should take this book. it will really help you. it's called jordan peterson's 12 rules of life and it argues that society naturally produces these structures in society, and now you're going against it through post-modernism. yes. i mean, why would anyone want to become a woman. my wife is a woman and she is sooooo unhappy with me." people just don't understand the basics, the reductive! i mean why?

okay, now, turns out your whole experiences are pseudoscientific according to this doctor, but if you're a good girl, maybe he will see you along your way into becoming transgender yourself. shit, uh, actually, you need to be able to cater towards whatever anxieties come up. this is a very pressing matter at hand. what if there was a transgender woman nurse for instance? have you ever thought about that. have you ever thought about THEIR agency. nevermind that i'm badly violating yours. that's just a price to pay if you want to get what you want. after all, i don't value these so-called 'trans-activists' i value these folk that are like "oh baby, i love your imposition and i can take it and secretly i don't actually hate you for the amount of bs that i put you through." if someone wants something then... [i'm such a nice person] turns out that they should give me something back in exchange for that. that's just how i roll. after all i'm generous.

[after spending months/years on waiting lists.]

off, turns out that we can't give you these hormones that you wanted. i know it's like uh kind of just menopause medication but uh.... it's complicated. now i am no doubt sympathetic to your plight and i admire your bravery, your courage, but you need to understand that i can't just help you with something that's clear and self-evident to you.

[you walk back home quiet/dejected]

now you are just scrolling through the internet and every single trans story is a sensationalistic gossip piece. what if there was a transgender barista at starbucks? george orwell was right!!! it's now everywhere. turns out that you're like literally the only trans person that certain people know and uh, we can't have people who experience messy feelings of that nature. see, i love self-actualised transgender people and nobody ever is allowed to feel insecure on my watch, or allowed to be frustrated at how society imposes on people.

we'll just make you so terrified to actually exist, and then every single day will just be a constant battle not only with your brain but about speculative paranoia over how shitty people can be. like what if you purchased a dr. pepper from a small shop up on the hill? what then? how can society cope with someone who decided that they wanted to become a girl? what then? see, we're not actually going to confront ourselves and we're just going to allow all this speculative bs to fill in the inexplicable and then uh... okay, why am i no longer in good company with this person anymore? explain that! must be the ideologies at work!

[you then meet a girl who is like "awwwww, that's so cute and sweet. you can be whatever you want to be." and you just feel so warm inside like oh my god, finally someone (more or less) gets it. i dunno, i'll take it, lol. but i wish it was just more like this, goddamnit.]

Remember folks, if anyone gives you shit for being transgender and sees it fundamentally as a bad thing, it helps if you're totally incredulous towards what they have to say. It should be a beautiful thing to reveal but some folks will not take it and will just turn it around themselves, treating it as inexplicable whenever they face consequences from it. Just remember not to put any value in what these people have to say!

[easier said than done, shit, like all trans stuff, lol.]

(a thorny depiction of trans experiences! what? how could it be?)

legit flinching with this fear of alienating people with every word that i say about this. you made me that way!

#trans #vent #transgender

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pastelvampyre · 4 years

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okay okay okay. so.

you actually want to support trans people with more than just your words? you actually want to help us feel comfortable? you’re willing to commit to that?

i’ve got some advice for you. some places to start.

(a note: i am a gay trans man, so most of this will be things from my experiences. some may be applicable to other orientations as well, feel free to add on if you’re trans!)

1. don’t expect every trans person to “out” themselves to you

trans people are not obligated to tell you that they’re trans at any point in their lives. this includes trans friends, trans acquaintances, and trans colleagues. often, that’s not your information to know, and it’s not your information to ask for either.

If you learn that someone is trans, treat that information as a secret unless they have explicitly told you otherwise. This goes double if they’re stealth. this isn’t your information to share to anyone else.

2. accept our pronouns and our identities without question, regardless of appearance, transition status, background, or interests

if someone asks you to use a set of pronouns for them, or a different name (or ANY name), don’t argue with them about it if the name or pronouns don’t “match” your perception of what a person with that name or pronouns should look like.

someone being pre- or never-hormones, having interests that correspond with their birth gender, enjoying certain types of clothes that are typically associated with their birth gender, or being ok with being labelled in the past as their birth gender, are also never reasons to refuse to use someone’s correct name or pronouns.

3. don’t try and police nonbinary peoples’ perception and presentation of their genders and their orientations

nonbinary peoples’ relationships with gender and orientation are complex. some nonbinary people don’t want to be associated with any binary gender, and some are completely fine with it, and some are ok with it but only in certain contexts. someone can identify as nonbinary but also be gay. or a lesbian.

nonbinary people can dress in any sort of way, and they can use any set of pronouns they want, even if they’re choosing to associate themselves with a label that is typically reserved for binary people.

stop telling nonbinary people what they can and can’t do. you are not the expert.

EXAMPLE: I am transmasc and nonbinary. i use both he and they pronouns. I also identify as a gay man, and I find myself attracted to cis men, binary trans men, as well as male-leaning NB people. using the label of “gay” for myself encompasses all of that. it’s not your job to tell me that I should be using another label to describe my attraction, or that I should be uncomfortable calling myself “gay” because I am also nonbinary.

4. accept it when a trans person tells you that something is transphobic instead of fighting with them. spread that information too (but be wary of speaking over us)

if a trans person tells you that something is transphobic, don’t argue with them. trans people are the experts on things that are transphobic, not cis people.

try not to get upset when someone tells you that something you said or did is transphobic. this includes guilt tripping, gaslighting, other emotional abuse tactics, claiming that you’re the victim, and saying things like “I have trans friends who are fine with it!” you’re not helping your case. try and listen as respectfully as you can.

EXAMPLE: if I, a trans person, tell you that [x thing] is transphobic, and you respond with “I can’t be transphobic, I have trans friends!” or “oh well now I’m the bad guy” or “no way, I’d never be transphobic”, that’s not good. your only response should be “oh, I’m sorry. how can I improve?”

5. don’t expect us to constantly be educating you on trans issues

surprise surprise, trans people have lives too! sometimes we want to think about things other than being trans! and expecting us to constantly provide emotional labour to you and constantly be your educators is exhausting. trans people (including your trans friends) don’t exist solely to educate you, and expecting us to constantly be ready to debate or explain is unfair.

6. think critically about what types of ideas and phrases might be accidentally transphobic

When you’re sharing information or talking about things common to the gay community, stop and reflect on whether it could be accidentally exclusionary to trans people. if you’ve said or done something that could fall under this category, apologize and avoid it in the future.

EXAMPLE: it’s a very common thing to state that being gay means there’s no risk of accidental pregnancies (especially when talking about the “benefits” of being gay). as a gay trans man who still has the capacity to get accidentally pregnant, this makes me uncomfortable. these types of statements unconsciously exclude trans people from certain communities.

7. don’t assume that your friends are trans-inclusive, even if they claim to be

someone can claim that they’re trans-inclusive, parrot the most basic of trans-inclusive statements, and then continue to spout transphobic rhetoric uncritically. a person claiming to be trans-inclusive doesn’t automatically mean that they are actually using their words and actions to prove it.

if you want to be around trans-inclusive cis people, you need to look past them claiming that they’re trans-inclusive. what do their words and actions indicate?

EXAMPLE: a person can say that they are trans-inclusive and say that gay trans men are men. however, if they’re also claiming that being a gay man is equal to attraction to penises, and that no gay man would ever want to touch a vagina, they are spouting transphobic rhetoric.

(another note: people are allowed to have preferences. people are allowed to prefer certain types of genitalia. however, making generalizations about a group of people based on your own personal experiences is when you cross the line to being transphobic)

8. call out people who do any of the above things. don’t leave all the work to us

don’t expect trans people to be the only ones calling out transphobia! it’s a lot of work on our shoulders if cis people aren’t going to help us. work with us to dismantle transphobia.

#text #trans tag #the dragon master speaks #transphobia /#1k

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clairecrive · 3 years

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"Rock my world" - Sirius Black x reader

A/n: I was thinking of making this a series but idk, let me know what you think. The band in the picture, Maneskin, are my inspiration for the marauders' band music and aesthetic. Check them out cause they're really good. They're going to represent Italy at the next Eurovision contest.

Here's their Instagram and Spotify.

Tags: Muggle AU, so ofc no magic, no Hogwarts, Marauders in a rock band, no Peter but Regulus instead, jily

Warnings: none

Word count: 2.2K ish

Summary: When y/n finally agrees to check out this band that her best friend was always talking about, she's in for a pleasant surprise and one hell of a night.

It had all started in the cheesiest and most cliscé of ways, really. Y/n had made a bet which had made you go out of your comfort zone that one night and for your bravery, you were rewarded with the most amazing boyfriend ever. It sounds like a story out of a rom-com or a romance novel, doesn't it? Well, yeah, it felt like a main character moment but, unlike what we see in those stories, it wasn't always fun and games.

But let's start from the beginning, shall we?

Y/n's best friend Jules had been nagging her about this rock band who was apparently the new sensation of the year according to her, for the longest time. So, one Friday night, when Jules had informed her that that very band was playing in a bar not very far from her workplace, she agreed to go for drinks there.

Worst case scenario, she thought, the music will be terrible but at least I get to tease Jules about it.

Still clothed in the floral dress she had chosen this morning, but adding a few glittery touches and graphic eyeliner to make her look more nighty, y/n headed towards said bar where Jules was already waiting for her.

"Finally," she huffed when y/n rounded the corner and entered her field of vision.

"Sorry, it was my turn to close tonight," y/n shot her an apologetic smile before hooking their arms.

They made their way inside looking for a place to sit. The bar was already crowded but not in an unusual way. Maybe it was the hour or the fact that it was a weeknight, y/n didn't know but felt grateful that it wasn't packed. She really wasn't a fan of crowded places.

They got their drinks and caught up as they usually would about their week. They were almost finished when the band walked up the stage and music started playing. Even before the first note, one look at their outfits made clear what kind of music they were going to play.

They had an interesting aesthetic, y/n had to admit. They wore the same colour but each member had their own style. The band was made up of four guys, the bassist had long straight hair and he looked a lot like the singer who instead had curly hair, the drummer had short curly light brown hair and y/n couldn't see what he was wearing past a black vest while the guitarist had black hair that was all over the place and wore glasses.

They had an androgynous aesthetic, each of them with beautiful makeup in tones of black and grey and the ones y/n could see clearly were wearing a sort of body. They looked stunning. Y/n had decided she liked them based on this alone. She had to admire anyone who had the guts to express themselves freely especially when it was in such an open and unapologetic way of going against gender norms.

After half an hour, the music stopped and after the singer wished everyone goodnight and they all climbed down. As she expected, they played rock music ranging from soft rock edging pop to hard rock that made her think a lot of ACDC. Y/n wasn't an expert in music but she had liked what she heard and wouldn't mind listening more from them. She was sure that she was going to catch some of their songs on the radio in the future.

However, Jules picked up the conversation where they had left it before the concert and decided that it was the time where she'd complain about her recent love interest. Each of their weekly meetings had one of this moment. Unfortunately, it looked like Jules didn't have a lot of luck when it came to guys. And as it always would, she wondered if she was the problem asking y/n if the reason every one of her relationships failed because she was unlovable. As if.

"That's not true, I truly believe that you can learn to love anyone. Lest you get to know them, of course."

"Of course you'd say something like that."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"If you truly believe that, then you're not going to say no to this." Jules wriggles her eyebrows suggestively and y/n knew that the night is either about to become very interesting or about to go very wrong.

"The expression on your face is telling me that I should definitely say no to what you're about to say."

"Oh c'mon, it's just an innocent dare. Nothing too crazy, I promise."

"Which is?"

"You see that guy leaning on the bar? Long black hair with the black leather jacket?" Y/n turned around indulging her friend and eventually spotted the guy she was talking about. She took her time to look at him until she realized something that made her whip around to face Jules again.

"You mean the singer of the band?" y/n asked incredulously.

"Isn't he handsome?" Jules smiled wide completely ignoring the look y/n was giving her already knowing what was going through her friends' mind. "I want you to go to him and ask him out."

"What?"

"C'mon", Jules complained reaching out to y/n over the table, "didn't you say that it was possible to love anyone? Can't you see yourself loving him?"

"That's not the point," y/n exclaimed still not believing that her friend was suggesting something so outrageous. "Can you see him loving me?" Because that man over there had "heart breaker" spelt all over him. And okay, y/n had to admit that this was a rush judgment she was making and it wasn't exactly fair but there was no way that a guy like him could be interested in a girl like her.

And yes, we could stay here and discuss all the reasons why that statement is wrong but still, if she were to put herself out there -something that was not like her at all- she wasn't going to go over someone so out of reach for her. And that was that.

"Listen, do you remember that video you sent me the other day?" Jules squared her shoulders, now looking fully serious at y/n. Unfortunately, y/n did remember the video Jules was talking about. She would have never guessed it would come back and bit her in the ass otherwise she'd never sent it.

Sighing, y/n looked down at the drink in her hands and thought about it. The video basically encouraged the viewer to go up to what they believed was the most beautiful person in the room and tell them exactly that. It may sound a little silly but at the time y/n had appreciated the sentiment. Going out of one's comfort zone. Challenging yourself. Because, what was the worst that could happen? That person shotting you down? That didn't sound life-threatening. Now though, y/n wasn't so sure.

"Worst case scenario, just tell him I'm calling you and head back here." Jules offered, almost as if she could tell exactly what her best friend was thinking.

Looking at her best friend, something snapped in her. Jules was right. What's the worst that could happen? She already knew that the guy was going to shoot her down. She was prepared. It was a dare, a silly thing that could give her a story to tell to her nephews one day.

What the hell, y/n thought squaring her shoulders.

"You know what?" she downed the rest of her drink and got up from her seat, "I'm doing it." Looking in the reflection of the tissue box on the table to check how she looked, she fixed her smudged lipstick and ruffed her hair before nodding solemnly at Jules and turned around.

As she made her way to the bar, she could hear Jules cheering on her fueling her sudden confidence.

The man of the hour was there where she saw him last. Her steps faltered as she realized that she had no idea how to approach him. What was she going to say? Oh my god, she was totally going to make a fool of herself. If she was not going to die for his rejection, she sure is going to die of embarrassment.

She was almost about to turn around and abort the mission when his eyes met hers.

Well, fuck. There was no way she was going to back down now.

She regained her confidence and smiled at him while closing the distance between them. She smiled at him. Who was she? Did someone drug her drink?

He smiled back at her, turning so that he'd be facing her once she reached him and she almost stopped to pinch herself to see if she was hallucinating or something.

"Hey," she said once she stood in front of him. Good, she thought, let's start with something simple.

"Hi," he smiled back at her.

Okay, okay, it's going good, isn't it? He hasn't ignored me, that must mean something, right? Yes, that he wasn't a rude asshole was her sobering thought.

"So," y/n started trying to take to time while she figured what to say, "I saw a video the other day," was what she ended up with.

The handsome stranger lifted his eyebrows in amusement and took a sip of his beer. Y/n took that as a "go on then".

"There was this woman that basically dared anyone watching to go up to the person who they thought was the most beautiful person in the room and tell them exactly that." Well, let's just get it out of the way, I guess, she thought. "So, here I am," she added as if it wasn't clear enough.

However, as she saw the man's smile widen, y/n suddenly realized how really screwed she was. This man was way out of her league.

"Well, now that I'm here, I should also mention that you've really good at what you do too."

"Not to sound rude or anything," he spoke for the first time that evening and y/n had already decided that he had been the gods' favourite in another life before he opened his mouth but now? as he heard his low and raspy voice? she was sure he had been at least a demi-god, "did you lost a bet or something?" he asked, his grey eyes boring into hers like he was looking into her soul.

Who was this guy? and why was she feeling like this? Get a grip, y/n, she scolded herself.

"Is it that obvious?" y/n's shoulders slouched as some of the tension left them, a nervous laugh leaving her mouth.

"I saw you downing your drink like it was some kind of bravery potion before you came here," he explained with a light scroll of his shoulders. "Not that I mind though," he added with what should be an illegal smirk. Smug.

"Yeah, I'm sure you've heard it countless time only tonight." Let's joke on it, she thought, there's still a chance I can come clean out of this mess.

He chuckled and, not leaving her eyes, he slipped a hand through his loose hair pushing it back. "I meant that if you hadn't come I would probably found an excuse to come up to you too." He leaned back onto the bar looking completely unbothered, not as if he had said something that made her feel on fire.

"Looks like I've to thank your friend for my luck." Looking over your shoulder, he held one of his hands up and lightly waving at Jules, y/n figured.

"Yeah, let's not tell her that or I will never hear the end of it." Rolling her eyes, y/n also leaned on her arm resting on the bar next to him. Whether it was the fact that all the cards were on the table or that what he said meant that he had to somewhat like her, she felt more relaxed than a couple of minutes ago.

"Before I make this solemn oath, I think it would be appropriate to know your name, don't you think?"

"It's y/n," she held her hand up for him to shake. However, he had something else in mind since when he took hold of her hand he turned it and held it up to his lips to leave a soft kiss on it. Y/n almost rolled her eyes at the gesture if it wasn't for his eyes. They didn't move from hers and she found that she didn't want to stop looking at him. Like she was in a trance. Yes, he was handsome, even more so up close, so of course he was nice to look at but that wasn't why. It's the way his eyes glimmered as they watched her, the gentleness with which he was holding her hand, the softness of his lips on her skin. What would they feel like on her lips, she wondered.

"I'm Sirius."

And that's how it all started. A silly video sent almost automatically to her best friend and an outrageous bet made y/n's night definitely interesting. To her luck though, Sirius became a permanent presence and not a one-night sensation.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

Tagging: @seldomabsent

#sirius black #sirius black x reader #sirius black AU #muggle AU #no hogwarts #no Peter either #the marauders are in a rock band #young!sirius black #marauders #sirius black one shot #sirius black imagine #sirius black imagines #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black fluff #marauders x reader #marauders imagine #harry potter x reader #harry potter imagines

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caswellprmanager · 3 years

Text

drawbridge

read it on ao3

Ship: Ricky Bowen/EJ Caswell

Summary: Snippets of EJ Caswell's life leading up to the mystery that is Ricky Bowen.

Notes: Hello. I decided to bite the bullet and post something here! This technically is in my Trans!EJ and Genderqueer!Ricky AU but I haven't properly written anything for it yet so consider this one to be the first official fic within that universe. Feel free to send some asks or other headcanons in my inbox about the AU! I'd love to hear what people think (but don't be unnecessarily mean. I will delete that very quickly.)

Disclaimer: I'm not an expert in all things transgender or genderqueer. I am writing from my own experience within the spectrum however so it's truthful to what I have been through, but will not represent everyone else's experiences. I also have friends within the spectrum who have given me great advice on how to go about these things but once again, it won't be accurate to everyone's experiences.

Warnings: Mentions of gender dysphoria, transphobia, and neglectful parents

People always told EJ that he had the picture perfect family.

His mom and dad were successful corporate lawyers, they lived in the wealthiest suburb in all of Salt Lake City, and he was the kind of child other parents would compare their own children to saying, "why can't you be more like EJ?"

But EJ knows that's farthest from the truth.

He doesn't have the picture perfect life or the paragon of White American families that people think they do. His parents are affectionate and supportive only when there are people around to comment on it. Most of the time, they're not even at home, leaving all of the child raising to their maids and other house servants. EJ spends more time at Ashlyn's house than he does at home because at least his aunt and uncle actually treat him like a son.

Because there are days his parents would forget they have a son. Sometimes they'd slip and call him their daughter, which makes EJ want to disappear from this world altogether. He supposes he should be grateful that they even bothered to pay for all the things he asked for — binders, testosterone shots, and regular visits to the doctor to check up on him throughout his transition. And he is grateful. He knows so many kids like him that can't even afford a decent sized binder without going bankrupt. He used to be that kid until he gathered up all his courage to come out to his parents.

But what they told him?

"Well, if you're gonna be our son, you will have to work twice as hard to make us proud now."

Yeah. It's a lot to process when you're 12 years old and scared shitless that you'd be disowned for "disrupting the natural order." But he figures things could be worse. So he sucks it up and vows to become the kind of son that his parents could truly brag about.

When EJ was a kid, he loved mysteries. His parents were the greatest mystery of them all. He's spent so much of his time trying to figure out what makes them happy, or angry, or sad. He's put the clues together and has a cork board of pictures and red string at the forefront of his mind whenever he so much as tries to interact with them. Soon, he sort of figured out what makes his parents smile at him — when EJ is excellent.

So, he became excellent at all kinds of sports, took up piano lessons, studied until his eyeballs burned with the lowlight of his desk lamp — all so that he could maybe get a pat on the back from his dad and a small smile from his mom. Their versions of "good job" or "keep it up." He drank that all in, craved it even, and worked his whole life until now to get even an iota of his parents' affection.

So, when he meets Ricky Bowen, the lanky and extremely clumsy skater who seems to live in the detention room, he was met with a brand new mystery to solve.

"Who's that?" EJ whispers into Nini's ear, who just seems to be irritated by the new person's presence.

"That's Ricky," she says with the barest hint of affection but with a whole lot of irritation. "My ex."

"Huh," He says, intrigued by the way Ricky's movements stutter like a half-finished stop motion film and how their wide doe eyes scan the room like — unironically — a deer in headlights. They looked nervous, confused, and all around terrified and EJ wants to reach out to them and tell them that this was a safe space. That they could be whoever they wanted to be in the theater.

He glances at Nini when Ricky starts singing a song that she seems to recognize. The immediate tensing of her shoulders and the way she subconsciously reaches out for EJ's hand for support tells him that this song... means something. Or meant something. EJ's not quite sure but he squeezes Nini's hand in silent reassurance, bringing himself to half-glare at the guitar playing skater just a few feet before him.

He met Nini during theater camp. A firecracker of talent with a voice that could melt the heart of even the coldest man on earth. She was beautiful in the spotlight and even more ethereal beneath the stars. She was kind, gentle, and a mystery that EJ solved quickly enough. She wore her heart on her sleeve despite it being broken because she believes that broken hearts can be mended with time and patience.

Nini was patient with him. She was patient with him when he took her up the little hill next to the campsite just to watch the stars on an old picnic blanket he stole from the camp counselors. She was patient with him when he couldn't keep up with the dance steps. Her hand was warm in his own and the flush of her palm by his neck was a grounding force that kept his head from going in the clouds.

She was especially patient with him when he took her to an empty tent and told her about his life. Nini was kind. Nini was patient. Nini was safe. And if she were to walk away and tell him that she wanted nothing to do with him after what he told her, he would have understood and learned to not associate kind brown eyes and ukulele calloused fingers to what could be barely described as home.

But she held his hand in her tinier ones, a smile on her face that radiated warmth that seeped into the depths of his soul, and told him that she was proud of him.

It was the first time that someone was proud of him... for just being him.

He cried into her arms that night, knowing he's got a lifelong friend within the kind brown eyes and ukulele calloused fingers of one Nini Salazar-Roberts.

"She thinks I'm a Chad?" He asks, less incredulously and more with a burning curiosity.

Nini rubs his arm comfortingly but he keeps staring at the cast list like it was going to burst into flames any second. "You're still a Troy understudy! You could still go on as him in one of the shows."

"Shows only run for three nights, Nini." He says with barely concealed frustration. Great. If he can't even get the role he was technically destined to play, how the hell is he going to explain himself to his parents?

You're not the lead? Oh, then we won't watch. If you're not onstage the whole time, why be there?

EJ grits his teeth and slowly brings his gaze to the person who has just taken away one more way for him to prove himself to his parents. Ricky Fucking Bowen, who stands there once again with their enormous brown eyes, gaping like a fish. EJ wants to deck them in the face. But Nini's hold on his arm grounds him back to reality and he lets out a long breath through his nose.

This is gonna be a long next few months.

"Look, I'm just trying to make the best out of a bad situation."

"Don't try," He ends up saying, still wiping at the blood caused by the basketball Ricky hit him with only moments ago. "It's painful to watch you do something you clearly don't want to do."

"What makes you think I don't want to do this?" Ricky asks with furrowed brows and EJ throws the wadded up tissue paper stained with his blood into the trash.

"You hated musicals before you auditioned. You landed the part of Troy without even fucking trying. And now you think you can get through rehearsals without fucking trying? It's tiring to work with someone who couldn't give two shits about this musical in the first place!" He says, every sentence rising in volume as he steps closer and closer to Ricky. "You also need to stay the fuck away from Nini."

Ricky scoffs then. "Why? Cause you're her boyfriend?"

"What? And you are?" He retaliates, which effectively makes Ricky click their mouth shut. EJ smirks. "Yeah. That's what I thought."

"Nini can choose whoever she wants to talk to." Ricky ends up saying with tense shoulders and a glare that could murder if EJ weren't already a person who doesn't fear death. "You can't tell me what to do."

"Well someone has to!" EJ throws his hands up in frustration, grabbing his jacket and zipping it up angrily. "Because you don't listen to Nini though, do you? Have you ever listened to her? Do you listen to anybody?"

"EJ I—"

"You better listen to me right now Ricky Bowen," he laces every syllable of Ricky's name with venom. "Stop trying to make things right. Stop trying to become a person you're not. If you actually cared about Nini or – god forbid – the musical, you'd stop trying and just get your shit together."

EJ doesn't even bother to look back at Ricky as he exits the bathroom, unaware of the look in Ricky's eyes when he walked away.

It isn't until Ricky approaches him one day after rehearsals that EJ was finally starting to unravel the mystery that was Ricky Bowen.

"Hey... EJ?" Ricky asks, looking at anywhere but at him and EJ would have been annoyed if it weren't for the way Ricky was holding themselves in front of him. They were tense, eyes glassy and unfocused whenever EJ caught a glance, and their fingers were gripping their bag straps so tightly that he was afraid Ricky was going to rip it apart if they weren't careful.

"Hey Ricky," He says with a softer voice than he's ever used with Ricky. "Is there something you need?"

Ricky's eyes dart around the still full rehearsal room, at the dangerously close proximity Miss Jenn was, at the stage managers that were just behind EJ who were reviewing the blocking notes, and finally at Nini who was engaged in a conversation with Carlos and Seb. Ricky's eyes lingered on Nini for a bit before they reluctantly settled on EJ's pristine white sneakers. "I would have normally asked Nini for this but – and you can say no by the way I'd completely understand – it's just..."

Ricky looks around again before leaning closer to EJ and shakily whispering, "Do you have any tampons?"

And just like that, the walls that were built around a certain Ricky Bowen were starting to crack. And EJ was allowed to see the smallest snippet of the kind of vulnerability that Ricky was capable of.

And it was the kind of vulnerability that he could relate to completely.

"My emergency stash is in my locker," He says, hastily packing up the rest of his things while Ricky continues to stand there dumbfounded. When EJ turns back to him with his own bag over his shoulder, he could see that there are a few unshed tears shining in Ricky's eyes. EJ softens for a second, knowing how difficult it must have been for Ricky to come to him for something so private.

"Come on. I'll even guard the bathroom for you." Ricky eventually follows him after a few seconds of just staring at his back and they fall in step around the corner. Ricky stays silent, fingers all fidgety and eyes still darting around like they'll be caught any second. EJ, instinctually, wraps a comforting arm around Ricky's shoulders. Ricky doesn't relax immediately but they do lean a little closer, somehow finding the weight of EJ's arm around them safe.

They eventually reach EJ's locker and Ricky smiles a bit because it's directly across from Sharpay's famous pink lockers. "Did you choose this spot specifically for Sharpay's lockers?"

EJ glances behind him and chuckles, rummaging through his stuff. "Oh yeah. If you say Ashley Tisdale three times in a row while touching her locker, you're guaranteed good fortune for at least a week."

Ricky looks at him with a smirk. "Have you tried that before?"

"Every year during finals week. I'm telling you, that shit works."

"Or maybe you're just really smart."

"Maybe," EJ says, finally locating his emergency stash of period essentials. "Or maybe it's just Ashley Tisdale bopping me to the top."

That's when Ricky lets out a laugh — an honest to god booming belly laugh that makes EJ pause just to stare at him. They look... nice like this. Without the worry lines and longing gazes at a girl who won't give them the time of day. They look just like a little kid, carefree and alive despite the world crumbling all around them, and EJ feels a weird surge of pride at being the person who made Ricky laugh like that.

He wants Ricky to laugh like that more. He wants to be the person who makes Ricky laugh like that more.

And so the walls around Ricky crack a little further, and the drawbridge is opened for one weary traveler to come in.

EJ doesn't notice the cracks on his own walls, nor the knowing little princess who watches from the east tower, smiling.

"Hey, what are your pronouns?"

Ricky doesn't look up from their practice skateboard, concentrating hard on their balance. "I don't have any. I'm just Ricky." They look up though, giving EJ a warm smile. "But go ahead and use any pronouns with me. I don't mind if it's you."

"So would you mind if I call you your majesty?"

EJ doesn't miss the flush on Ricky's cheeks at that and definitely doesn't miss the way they say "I'd like that very much." with the barest hint of embarrassment.

"Okay," EJ says with his chin propped up in his hands. "Your majesty."

Ricky falls off of their practice skateboard then, soon glaring up at a cackling EJ still with a blushing face.

EJ forgot his binder today.

And his body loved reminding him every time he took a step.

Thankfully, there wasn't going to be water polo practice today and he could get away with wearing multiple layers to school. But even with the sports bra, the t-shirt, the sweatshirt, and the letterman jacket doing a good job at making his chest look flat, he still felt his skin crawl looking at the mirror. His jeans hugged him a little too tightly, forcing him to notice the still feminine curve of his hips. His sports bra was a tad smaller than the last time he wore it, so the pinch at his chest doubled in size.

EJ resolved that he was not going to have a good day today.

But today was tech rehearsals and he couldn't ditch that. He was starting to really enjoy rehearsals now that he and Ricky are on good terms. Even the stage managers ask him to hang out with them time to time outside of rehearsals. EJ actually felt like... he really belonged somewhere now. And he wasn't going to let this ruin it for him. Not today.

"Hey EJ," He heard Nini say to him as he got out of his car. "What's with all the layers? It's pretty hot today."

"It's one of those days, Neens." He says with a heavy sigh and Nini just grabs his hand and gives it a reassuring squeeze. Ricky rolls up to them two seconds later, their head suspiciously missing a helmet.

"How many times do I have to tell you to wear a helmet when you're skateboarding, Ricky?" EJ tries to scold the junior despite this weirdly overwhelming fondness growing inside of him every time he even looks at Ricky now.

"Haven't gotten into an accident yet," Ricky shrugs, smiling politely at Nini and changing it into a cocky little smirk the second they look at EJ.

"Yet being the operative word here," EJ rolls his eyes and opens his trunk for Ricky to stash his board in for later. "I won't drive you to the hospital if you end up getting a concussion for not wearing a helmet."

"Yes you will." Ricky says, knocking their shoulders together. "You love me!"

EJ freezes for a bit but before he could even respond, Ricky is already catching up to Big Red and Gina, waving back at EJ and Nini with a wide grin. EJ stares at him for a few seconds, not quite sure how to process the last few moments, until Nini waves a hand in front of his face.

"Hello? Earth to EJ?"

"Huh?"

"Care to share with the class what's going on?" The little smirk on her lips says it all and EJ was not going to fall for that.

"Nope. There's nothing to share."

"Mhm," She says, looping her arm around EJ as soon as he closed his trunk. "Of course there isn't, EJ." Nini pretends not to see EJ staring at Ricky as they walk into school. EJ pretends to not notice that she's pretending to not see EJ pretending to not overtly stare at Ricky.

Besides, EJ has gotten pretty good at pretending.

Aaaannndd that's it for now. I hope you guys liked that! I really enjoyed exploring trans!ej and genderqueer!ricky through this au and it means a lot to me. Maybe next time I'll write something in ricky's pov but for now thanks for reading !!

#ej caswell #ricky bowen #nini salazar roberts #rj #hsmtmts #trans!ej #genderqueer!ricky #tw: gender dysphoria #tw: transphobia #tw: neglectful parents #cloud's writing now #hsmtmts fanfiction #they're not really together yet here but #ej is Definitely pining at the end tho #and nini is the best i will not tolerate nini slander in my blog #caswen #ricky x ej #ej x ricky

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jenonctcity · 4 years

Text

My Beginning - Part 3

Differences – Lee Jeno

Part of the Bad Boy Series.

Badboy!Au, Streetfighter!Au

Warnings: Mentions of mental health, Disability (blindness), Mild Violence, Mentions of suicide.

Word Count: 5.3k

“It’s hard being a father.” Renjun’s words rang through Jeno’s head like a school bell echoing through empty halls. The words bouncing around and causing his headache to build every time his head repeated the words in his brain. He let out a sigh, his head resting against the back of the sofa and his eyes shut, not that it would matter if they were open, he couldn’t see either way. He just preferred to keep his eyes closed, it meant he didn’t have to remember to blink when his eyes started to dry out or irritate. For the past week, Jeno’s world had been pitch black. Mentally, emotionally, and physically. With blindness came a sense of self-pity, boredom, and the overwhelmingness of relying on others to do basic tasks. It wasn’t only the blindness that was dousing his normal way of living with stress and worry. It was also the fact that you were carrying his unborn child. A child he did not want. Despite having you with him almost 24/7 because of his accident, the two of you still had yet to talk about the elephant in the room. You both kept putting the topic off and instead focused more on how to cope with Jeno’s lack of sight. You had quit university. It was a decision that was hard for you to make, but you knew it was the right thing to do. Jeno only had his friends to rely on, and they couldn’t be there for him as much as you could. So you quit your studies. Jeno had a lot of money saved up and had gotten Renjun to sell his car on for a hefty price too, so you could both live comfortably for the foreseeable future. Of course the money would run out eventually, but hopefully by that time, you would have solutions to your problems.

Jeno could still hear your whimpers echoing around his head with Renjun’s words. The whimpers you had let out when you’d walked back into the hospital room with a cup of water and found a doctor examining Jeno’s eyes, only to be told your boyfriend had lost his sight because of the damage done from the accident. Your knees buckled and luckily Jaemin had caught you before you’d hit the floor. Jeno just laid there and listened to you sob into his best friends’ chest for what seemed like hours. He felt numb, despite all the pain he was in, and he was at a loss of what to do. He was blind, with a baby on the way. He’d never felt more useless in his entire life as he laid in that bed and stared at the darkness. Jaemin had calmed you down, with promises whispered into your hair of everything being okay. The doctor had told you that it was rare for people to lose their sight permanently from head injuries, but it could happen, and only time would tell.

“When they’re babies, you think it’s easy to take care of them and then boom, they get diarrhoea, they wiggle around a bit, and shit goes all up their back.” Jeno could almost hear the smirk in Renjun’s voice. He let out another sigh and shook his head.

“Shut up.” He grunted, clenching his fists by his side as he tried to keep calm.

“You have to be cautious of the three S’s, screaming, sick, and shit.”

“You have to be cautious of my fists Renjun.” Jeno growled, lifting his head and turning it into the direction of Renjun. “I may be blind, but I can still hear you, and I will beat the fuck out of you if you don’t shut up.” He mumbled, his threat sounding weak causing Renjun to know he didn’t mean it.

“Alright daddy, keep your diaper on.” Renjun sniggered, reaching out and patting Jeno on the shoulder. “You’ll be fine Jen; you have all of us here to support you and I am the best dad in the world. Jiyeon is still alive!”

“You forgot her name yesterday...” Jeno deadpanned with a frown on his face.

“That was because all I’ve heard for the past few days is baby names! You know I’m about to have another one, it’ll be arriving any day now.” Renjun and his girlfriend had decided not to find out what gender their baby was, instead waiting and discussing baby names constantly. She was 4 days overdue and the baby would be arriving at any time.

“I’m pretty sure she is the one who takes care of you most of the time.” Jeno let out a soft laugh, his head turning to the sound of the door as it creaked open.

“Hey.” You greeted quietly as you walked through the door, smiling at Renjun and placing the grocery bags on the kitchen counter. “Is he okay?” You mouthed silently at Renjun, to which you received a smile and a curt nod. You rushed over to the sofa and slowly sat beside Jeno, not wanting to alarm him. He had been flinching a lot more and his nerves were constantly on edge if he couldn’t hear where everyone in the room was. “Hey handsome.” Your voice was soft, and you took his clenched fist into both of your hands. Jeno let out a long sigh and roughly pulled you into a tight hug. He breathed in, basking in your scent and rubbing his cheek against your own. This was the most affection he had given you since before his accident, and you felt like crying at the sudden love he was projecting onto you.

“I’m tired and fed up of hearing Renjun’s voice.”

“Fuck you, blind ass bitch.” Renjun muttered with a laugh.

“Do you kiss your daughter with that mouth?” Jeno shot back, pushing himself to his feet and lacing his fingers with your own.

“Do you know how to use protection?” Your eyes widened as the boys kept trying to push each other’s buttons. You knew they were both only jesting and that neither of them meant any harm, so you silently started to tug Jeno towards his room as he continued to argue with Renjun.

“Right back at ya, whore.” You closed the door once you’d gotten Jeno into his room, letting out a sigh and gently pushing him to sit on his bed.

“Well I’m glad that you’re still arguing with your friends.” You laughed softly, taking off your jacket and sitting behind Jeno on the bed. You grabbed a hairbrush and ran your hand through his hair, brushing it gently and being careful of the wound he had gotten from hitting his head on the floor. “How’s your head?”

“Painful, I have a headache too.” He sighed, leaning into your touch and relaxing. You’d gotten used to taking care of him as though he was your own child. He could probably do more for himself than you would allow him to, but you didn’t want him to hurt himself yet, so you were just being extra cautious with him. Silence fell between you both, and you pressed a kiss to the top of his head, having to lean up on your knees to reach. “We have to talk about the baby. We’ve been avoiding it since we got home, and it needs to be talked about.”

“Okay.” You sighed, moving to sit beside him and looking down at your feet. “I should have made you aware I wasn’t on the pill, I’m sorry.”

“It’s my fault too. It takes two people to make a baby and we were both irresponsible.” He faced forward, his voice sounding low but with a soft timber to it. You felt nauseous just from the conversation, not knowing where it would take you and what decisions you would make between the two of you. “I’m not ready for kids…I had it in my head that I would never be a parent, so this is…fucking with my head.” He ran has hands over his face and let out a groan. You could see he was battling with what to say, and you had a feeling he was going to lose his temper more than once in the upcoming months.

“Well…we should have talked about this before we started having sex. We had sex nearly everyday and you came inside of me nearly every time! Why did you not think to ask me about whether I was on contraceptive?!” You felt frustration coursing through you at how things had happened. You were too caught up the honeymoon phase of your relationship to even think about talking to him about what you both wanted in the future. You knew you wanted kids, and it didn’t bother you when you had them, especially since you were so infatuated with Jeno, you just felt like you were ready. Had you known he didn’t feel the same way, you would have done things different.

“Why the fuck didn’t you tell me not to finish inside of you?!” He shot right back at you, his own temper flaring up at your tone of voice. He couldn’t see you, which was making him frustrated because it was hard to tell how you were reacting based just off of your words and tone of voice.

“I wasn’t exactly a sex expert! I just laid on my back most of the time and let you do your thing, you know you’re my first for this, how was I supposed to guess that you were going to finish inside of me every fucking time!” It was starting to turn into a shouting match as you both expressed your opinions. Jeno didn’t want to admit that his breeding kink was what caused him to do it, because honestly, he felt stupid for not being cautious with his kink.

“This isn’t what I fucking wanted.” He stood up quickly, his fists clenching. He needed to hit something, but he couldn’t see what he was hitting, and there was no way in hell that he would endanger you by throwing fists blindly. You didn’t say anything to him, staying dead silent as you stewed in your thoughts and feels. Your silence made him snap. “Say something!!!”

“Are you going to leave me…?” The heart-breaking tone in your voice had Jeno’s hands unclenching and his chest rising and falling as he took a deep breath. His pause had tears welling up in your eyes, and you were glad he couldn’t see your watery eyes.

“No.” He shook his head, running a hand through his hair and gripping it tightly. You sniffed, trying to make sure that your voice was stable.

“Do you want me to get an abortion?” Your voice cracked as you spoke, warm tears falling down your cool cheeks and siting on your chin, waiting for the heaviness of more tears to fall to drip onto your tensed hands.

“No.” He answered faster this time, his own tears pooling in his eyes.

“Do you still love me?” You reached out and took one of his hands in both of your own. His fingers laced with yours, and he used your hand as a guide to sit himself back down on the bed.

“Of course I do.” He raised your hands to his lips and pressed a soft kiss to your fingertips. “Look, it’s going to take a long time for me to adjust to this, and I’m not going to lie to you and tell you that I’m happy about having a baby. But I love you, and I don’t want to lose you. So we’ll make it work and I’m going to be there for you and the baby…our baby.” He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close to him. You squeezed him tightly, burying your head into the crook of his neck and letting out a soft sob.

“Thank you.” You whispered, kissing his jaw with a quick peck and relishing in being in his arms once more.

---

Haechan had never seen Jeno more down and depressed before in his life. It was hurting his heart to see Jeno sit on the sofa and wallow in self-pity, with the cloud of his disability and despair sitting around his head like a poisonous fog. Jeno was someone who needed to let go of his pent-up emotions, and he always did it with fighting. But he couldn’t do that easily without his sight. Haechan had been worried about Jeno’s mental health, especially because Jeno couldn’t wrap his head around the fact he was going to be a father. He’d created a life, and he knew he’d have a responsibility he had never originally signed up for. It was when Haechan had walked in on Jeno laid on the floor on his back with tear streaks on his cheek that Haechan had finally snapped.

“Get up Jeno.” He snapped with a dominating tone, kicking Jeno in the leg lightly.

“No.” He grunted back at him, not even moving a muscle.

“Get the fuck up. We’re going somewhere.” He left the room, leaving Jeno on the floor to quickly pack up a bag of things in Jeno’s room. When he came back, he saw Jeno sat up on the floor. “Get up!”

“Why?!”

“I’m fed up of you sitting there feeling sorry for yourself all of the time, we’re going to the gym. Come on!” They were teetering on it being an argument as Haechan grabbed Jeno by the collar and lifted him to his feet. Jeno shoved Haechan away roughly.

“Fuck off. I lost my sight and I’m having a baby I don’t fucking want. If I want to feel sorry for myself then I fucking will.” He growled, smacking Haechan’s hand away when it landed on his shoulder. “Don’t act like you suddenly give a fuck about me. Leave me alone.”

“Jeno you’re my fucking brother, I’m done with you not doing anything, it’s been a month and all you do is sit around and mope about the cards you’ve been dealt like no one else has any problems!!!” He shouted, causing his girlfriend to come out of their room with wide eyes.

“Hyuck, what are you doing?” Her voice made Jeno’s head hurt more.

“You can fuck off too!!!” He couldn’t help the words from leaving his mouth. She flinched, her eyes widening at the sudden attack. “You broke my heart and then tell my new girlfriend about what I’m like when I’m sleeping?! Yeah, I haven’t forgotten about that, it was as though you were trying to sabotage my happiness, but poor Jeno is a fucking push over who always lets everyone use him as a fucking doormat, so he never said anything!!!” He practically screamed, finally getting everything off of his chest. Jaemin and Renjun also appeared from their rooms, ready to step in in case anything happened. “Everyone thinks they can just say whatever they want to me or screw me over because I’m too kind to do anything about it. Fuck you all!” Jeno had tears streaming down his face that had everybody’s stomachs turning in guilt.

“Jeno calm down, this isn’t good for you.” Jaemin’s voice nearly had Jeno calming, but then his back went back up again and he shook his head, turning to where he had heard Jaemin’s voice come from.

“Don’t tell me to calm down you hypocrite, you’re the first person to get yourself into a state so bad that I have to talk you out of not killing yourself! Have I ever told you to calm down?! No! Because I know it doesn’t work. You don’t understand the pressure you put on me Jaemin, I’m constantly worried about whether I’m going to lose my best friend to depression.” He started to sob more, all of his thoughts spilling out because he couldn’t deal with them all being bundled up in his head anymore. Jaemin’s face fell and his stomach dropped through to the ground floor of the apartment building.

“Jen…” He rushed over to his best friend and bundled him up into his arms, Jeno broke down completely, his knees almost buckling as he sobbed on Jaemin’s shoulder. Jaemin silently cried as he cuddled his best friend. “I’m so sorry.”

“I can’t do it anymore; I can’t see, I’m not ready to have a baby, and people need to leave me the fuck alone.” He whimpered into Jaemin’s shoulder. “I need to process this in my own time, but everyone is rushing me!”

“Jeno, it’s going to be okay. Let it out.” He rubbed Jeno’s back, swaying them both gently. Everyone else silently left the room, letting them be alone so that Jaemin could calm Jeno down. Haechan felt horrible, he was only trying to help, but he went about it the wrong way and ended up causing his best friend to have a complete mental breakdown.

“My life has just always been a mess…then I finally meet a girl I fall in love with that hasn’t hurt me, and now I can’t even see her…Jaemin I’m starting to forget what she looks like and it hurts so much.”

“I know, I know.” He moved them both to the sofa and settled Jeno on there tenderly.

“If I wasn’t blind…I would have left.” He mumbled, looking down at his hands and feeling like the worst person in the world for saying that.

“You don’t mean that.” Jaemin shook his head and tapping Jeno on the leg. “Don’t say things you don’t mean.”

“I’m not sure if I meant it or not.”

---

It had been 5 months since you and Jeno had came to an understanding about your baby. The past months had been difficult for you both. Jeno’s disability had been tough on you and him, but together the two of you were working through it. There had been some rough spots, like the time Jeno had tripped over his own feet and had ended up with a black eyes for a few weeks, or the time when you were super emotional because of you hormones and he snapped at you about something minor, leading you to cry on Jaemin’s shoulder for 3 hours solid. You had notice that he was still super hesitant to talk about the baby, and he would very rarely bring it up, only talking about it when someone else talked about it first. He had taken very little interest in his own child and had only touched your small bump when he was cuddling you in bed. Also, his vision hadn’t come back at all, which was making the tension inside of him get stronger and stronger the more the time went by.

“Tell your child to stop kicking me.” You mumbled, half asleep under the covers of Jeno’s bed. He was cuddling up to your neck and laying the softest of kisses to your hot skin, his lips trailing up your jaw and getting closer to your lips until he heard your words. He sighed and let out a soft groan, sitting up and placing his hand on your leg, trailing it up until he got to the small mound on your abdomen where his baby was cooking.

“It’s not kicking though?” He furrowed his eyebrows, twisting his body so he was facing your bump and placing both of his hands on it. “I can’t feel anything.” Jeno hadn’t felt the baby kick yet, he hadn’t been interested enough to ask if he could feel it whenever you made an offhanded comment about it moving, kicking, or hiccupping. You were actually taken by surprise when he’d placed his hands on the bump instead of just shrugging your words off.

“Wait a second...” You giggle and take his hands in your, moving them to either side of the bump and very gently putting pressure on them so his fingers dug in slightly. “There, feel that?” You smiled widely, watching the gentle look wash over his face as he felt his baby move for the first time. He nodded quickly, his whole body relaxing and a small smile tugging at his lips. You’d read online that the first time a father feels his child moving inside of the mother, could be a magical moment. And this was the first time you’d seen Jeno be paternal towards his unborn child, so it did feel magical to you. He suddenly pulled his hands away and cleared his throat.

“I’m worried that my sight won’t come back.” He laid back down on his side, pulling your body against his and letting out a sigh that sent a shiver down your spine. “It’s been over 5 months and I still can’t see shit…what if I never get to see our baby?”

“Jeno, give it some more time, the doctor said it could take up to a year for you to see any improvements. Don’t give up hope.” You leaned in and brushed your lips against his. His lips sought after your own when you withdrew them, causing you to smile softly and push them back against his.

“Thank you for taking care of me.” He whispered against your lips, moving the two of you so that he was half laying on top of you, being cautious of your stomach.

“You don’t have to thank me.” The kiss turned filthy, his tongue flicking against your own with one of his hands moving up to rub at your breast over your pyjama shirt. You felt arousal heat your body up for the first time in a while. You’d had sex with Jeno a couple of times since his accident, but it was getting harder to do the further along you got in your pregnancy, and Jeno often wasn’t in the mood whenever you were. “I need you.” You whispered into his mouth, gently giving his chest a push. He laid down on his back and got comfortable, his hands reaching out and trying to find your hips as you climbed on top of him. You straddled his hips, making quick work off pushing down your pyjama shorts and pushing Jeno’s boxers down just enough to pull his hardening cock out.

“Be careful baby.” Jeno muttered breathily, his hands finding purchase on your hips to keep you steady on him. You leaned down as far as you could, trying to reach his lips and letting out a whine when your bump wouldn’t allow you to get any closer to him. Jeno heard your whine and his eyebrows furrowed. “What’s wrong?”

“I want a kiss, but I can’t reach!” You giggled through a whine, giving up and sitting back on your knees. Jeno chuckled lightly, then let out a long moan when you sunk down onto his cock, your warm walls sucking him in and sending a dull sensation of pleasure through you.

“Fuck baby, I’ve missed this.” He squeezed his shut eyes tighter, leaning his head back on the pillows. You placed your hands on his chest and rolled your hips, grinding down on his cock with vigour. He planted his feet on the bed, bucking his hips up to meet your own once you started to bounce, his cock hitting you in all the right places. You knew neither of you were going to last long, the ball inside of your stomach tightening the more you moved on top of him. He kept his hands tight to your sides, making sure you didn’t accidentally topple off of him as his thrusts got harder.

“Jeno I’m gonna cum!” You squealed, almost falling forward as you felt the fire of your orgasm rip through you, your thighs shaking and pussy convulsing around his solid cock.

“Shit!” Jeno opened his eyes as he came, his hips stuttering and his eyes immediately tearing up when he saw your blurry silhouette in the light of the room. “Fuck.” He bursts into tears, shutting his eyes immediately and letting go of your hips to cover his eyes with his hands.

“Jeno? What’s wrong?!” You carefully moved off of him, crawling beside him and trying to pull his hands from his face. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine baby.” He sniffled, rubbing his eyes and smiling through his tears. “I just love you so much. Thank you for looking past all the shit in my life and seeing the good.” He didn’t want you to know about his improvement, just in case it was a fluke and he went back to being completely blind permanently.

“Oh Jeno.” You melted on the inside at seeing him weep from the reason he gave you. “I love you too.” You leaned down, finally able to from the angle you were now sitting in and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

---

Jeno had been keeping a huge secret from you. One he was actually surprised that he could keep a secret because of how much time he spent with you. But it had been two months since he first got a sliver of his vision back. And he could happily tell people that he could officially see again and was no longer classed as legally blind. His vision wasn’t the same as it once was, but he could now see clearly if he had on his new glasses. After finding out about his improving sight, he’d asked Renjun to take him to and from appointments so that he could keep it silent from you in order to surprise you when the time was right. He did admit to Renjun that when he saw you for the first time with your pregnant belly, he had a nervous breakdown. The whole situation of becoming a father finally dawning on him as he saw you struggle to put on your socks. He didn’t help you, mostly because it would have given his surprise away, which yes, he does feel bad for, but you got your socks on in the end!

Something Jeno never could have prepared himself for was when you woke him up at 3am, complaining of pains in your abdomen and whining about the food you had eaten earlier on in the day. He had cuddled you, stroked your hair, and told you to go back to sleep. You’d managed to drift off, but an hour later, you were whining even more because the pain had gotten worse, and the pain was coming in waves that didn’t seem to be slowing down, but instead of speeding up. It was when the bed suddenly became wet and Jeno had thought that you’d peed on him when you realised you were going into labour. The next thing you did was cry, because you weren’t supposed to be due for another 6 weeks, so the baby was more than a month early. Jeno had shouted for Renjun, who had come running in his pyjamas to help the two of you out. You couldn’t thank Renjun enough for all the help he’d been giving the two of you since you found out that you were going to become parents. Sure he loved to clown you both about it, but he was also a big help with getting ready for the baby’s arrival.

When you’d arrived at the hospital, you’d been taken to a room to be prepared for giving birth. You were frightened, because you knew your baby wasn’t going to be as big as most babies, and anything could happen. Jeno had been sat at your bedside through all of your contractions, his hand being held tight in your own and his lips on your forehead whispering words on encouragement. You wondered why he was wearing the glasses that he had told you were simply for fashion and because he felt strange walking around with his eyes shut, but the thought quickly rushed from your head when a painful contraction hit you like a truck.

“Fuck!” You screamed, not usually cursing but the word just tumbled from your lips as you squeezed Jeno’s hand tightly.

“You’re doing so well babe.” He kissed your sweaty forehead, pushing back the messy hair of your forehead and watching as some midwives entered the room. His heart was pounding in his chest, he knew there was no going back now, his life was about to change forever. But he didn’t know whether it was for the good or bad.

“It’s time to push now sweetheart.” The midwife said to you, her and her colleague prepping you to give birth. Jeno took a deep breath, exhaling and inhaling repeatedly to stop the panic attack that was creeping up on him like a lion about to attack a zebra. Everything went by like a blur to Jeno. He heard your groans of pain as you pushed, his hand being gripped in yours like a tightening vice as the midwives gave you words of encouragement. He was speechless, his eyes following the tiny baby as it was pulled from you and taken away to be cleaned up. Jeno had never seen a baby so small in his entire life, and he turned to look at you, his mouth hanging open in shock from the reality of becoming a father.

“Oh my god.” You let out a soft sob when they handed you your baby wrapped in a white blanket. “Jeno, it’s a boy…he’s so beautiful.” Jeno gulped, looking down at his son in your arms. You couldn’t describe the love that bloomed in your stomach as you stared down at your squirming baby in awe. He didn’t cry, he just opened his little eyes ad stared blankly up at the ceiling. “Hey little guy…”

“Can I hold him?” Jeno’s voice was wobbling and you nodded, very carefully handing over the baby to him. You still thought he couldn’t see, so to see him looking down at the baby with open eyes, his eyes flickering up and down the tiny boy’s body as he studied his son. “Minjun.” He whispered the name you’d agreed on for a boy. “He looks like a Minjun.” Jeno glanced up at you, and you felt your heart soar.

“Y-you can see?” Jeno nodded, leaning forward and kissing you tenderly on the lips. “Since when?! Jeno I’m so happy.” You started to cry once more, overwhelmed from the birth of your son and from finding out about your loves eyesight. You wanted nothing more than for Jeno to be able to see his baby, and he could. Happy wasn’t strong enough to describe how you felt.

“The past few months it’s been slowly coming back, I have to wear glasses to see but…it’s better than nothing. (Y/N) you did such a good job, he’s wonderful.” Jeno’s smile lit up his entire face like you’d never seen before. He held Minjun’s little hand with his fingertip and could feel the tears welling up in his eyes.

“Well you helped me make him.” You giggled, watching the magical moment between father and son.

He leaned down and pressed a kiss to Minjun’s forehead, sniffing back his tears even though one rolled down his cheek. “I wasn’t too keen on the thought of you when I first heard you were going to be arriving you know, but now I can’t imagine not having you. I’m going to do the best I can for you, and you will have the best life I can give you. My own father wasn’t a nice man to me, he hurt me a lot, and set me up for a lifetime of worry. But that’s all my past. You and your mummy are just the beginning, my beginning.”

---

So what are we thinking? Let me know your thoughts! This story has been a wild ride, thank you all so much for getting this far!

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hanadolphieron · 3 years

Text

surfer!jungeun~

warnings; none

genre; fluff

pairing; kim jungeun x gender neutral reader

word count; 1.5k

summary; you meet a squad of surfers while eating your lunch and one of them, the woman, the myth, the legend, kim jungeun, ends up teaching you her craft.

“jo serim, eat my fries one more time and i will squirt ketchup all over your precious hair.”

“i’m hungry, sihyeon~”

“you ate about fifteen slices of bacon this morning. there is no way you’re hungry.”

your two best friends have already commenced their arguing and it’s only 12 o’clock in the afternoon. you sigh loudly, stealing one of sihyeon’s fries while she’s busy berating serim for her love of savory food.

serim, of course, sees you and alerts sihyeon, but siheyon, of course, thinks serim is lying and gets her tomato paste weapon ready.

you heckle at them and grab sihyeon’s arm, making her set the ketchup back on the table. she reluctantly lets you, warning that you could be next.

your take a bite out of your burger. your eyes wander around the restaurant’s patio. it’s small, with the average sets of tables and chairs seated on it. the ordering area is right in your line of vision and you see a pack of girls walk up to it.

it’s a bunch of surfers. looks like they’ve come straight of the beach. one of them appears about ready to snarl at her hair- the sand just does not want to be dusted off.

one of the girls in the front catches your eye. she looks to be the quietest one in the group, standing off the side, the epitome of a tsundere girl crush. you catch her eye as she zones back in to her friends’ conversation and then orders her food.

you smile at her. she looks a little surprised and awkwardly grimaces back.

“the people here are so nice,” serim gushes next to you, “everyone i’ve seen so far has either waved, smiled, or made eye contact with me! i feel so appreciated!”

“yeah,” sihyeon agrees, “must be the food. anyone who gets to eat this good of a burger every day should be excruciatingly happy.”

the irony of the situation almost makes you laugh. you smile despite your slight embarrassment at the girl’s reaction to your normal, humane greeting. your friends take it as a sign that you agree with their observations.

the flock of surfers sit down at the table next to you. the girl you smiled at seems to tense up as she sits down. probably because of the close proximity of strangers. that always seems to be the case of nerves in detached types.

you continue eating your burger, finishing up the last few bites. sihyeon’s ready to go back up for more ice cream. serim’s complaining that she didn’t even have enough time to drink all of her lemonade and it won’t taste good with dairy!

sihyeon’s about to grab serim’s arm and manhandle her up to the counter, but before she can, one of the surfers next to you interrupts, saying, “hey, do you guys want to come down to the beach with us?”

“sure!” onda says happily without hesitation, looking ready to jump up and down.

“yeah,” you and sihyeon chorus at the same time, a little after serim.

“good, it’s getting boring. no one our age ever hangs out here, they’re all at muri beach.”

“why don’t you go down there then?” sihyeon asks curiously.

“it’s a bay, so there’s no waves. too calm for surfing.” the girl responds, tying her hair up in a ponytail and stretching. “anyways, the name’s heejin. i’m the swaggy one in this group.”

“never say the word ‘swaggy’ again,” another one responds, “i’m yves, by the way,” she adds as an afterthought before stuffing a fry into her mouth.

“i’m hyunjin.”

“my name’s jinsoul.”

“jungeun.”

you and your flock of friends introduce yourselves as well, and everyone slowly gets up, grabs their stuff and shuffles down to the water.

everyone talks comfortably, the easy vibes from the surfers seem to have osmosis-ed over to you.

“wait, i need to grab my dog. my mom dropped him off,” yves says before turning around and running back up the restaurant.

“her mom just left the dog unattended?” you ask.

“yeah,” jungeun responds, “it’s a nice dog.”

“understandable. that makes complete sense.”

jungeun senses your sarcasm at her dry response and rolls her eyes. she opens her mouth to retort, but the sound of crashing waves drowns out the noise. you hadn’t realized how loud the ocean was until you were standing right in front of it.

“that’s loud!” serim shouts.

“yeah,” jinsoul yells back, “let’s move further back so we don’t have to yell!”

the group turns around and moves away from the water to set up camp.

everyone rolls out their towels. serim is very happy with her hello kitty one and shows jinsoul excitedly. jinsoul is endeared by this.

yves comes flailing down the beach, fluffy puppy struggling to keep up with its speedy bird of an owner.

“doggy!” serim screams. sihyeon is close behind, audibly keyboard smashing. you jump up too, trying not to hide your smile but failing miserably. there goes your cold, sarcastic first impression.

the three of you collapse onto the dog, who is thoroughly enjoying the attention and is about to wag its tail off.

“what’s its name?” sihyeon says, looking at yves who is doting on the puppy as well.

“haru”

“IT”S SO CUTE!” serim screams, frightening the dog.

“you scared it!” you scold playfully, picking up stealing haru and running back to the group.

“give him back!” serim sounds appalled as she chases after you.

“nope!” you say, and continue running, falling down onto a towel, canine in hand. serim falls on top of you, almost squishing the doggo but he manages to wriggle out of your grips before anything detrimental happens.

you giggle at serim’s attempts to fight you and tickle her sides. she shrieks in your ear and you shove her off, revealing a figure standing in your line of vision.

jungeun.

“uh, hi?” you say, a little embarrassed because why in the world is she staring at you with such a weird look on her face?

“hello. that’s my towel.”

“oh, i’m so sorry, i was just uhm, trying to outrun serim here, and ended up collapsing on it.” you stand up quickly, brushing some sand off.

“no, i mean you can still use it, i’m about to head over and start surfing, so i won’t need it just yet, i was just a little surprised.”

there’s an awkward silence. you open your mouth to say something, but jungeun asks, “do you want to come with me?”

“surfing?” you say.

“yeah. i could teach you.”

“sure,” you agree, shrugging your shoulders. surfing can’t be that hard.

“good luck,” jinsoul tells you, “surfing’s tough. especially with jungeun teaching you.”

“i thought you were an expert?!” you exclaim at your newfound surfing mentor.

“i am, jinsoul just doesn’t know true talent when she sees it.”

“it’s okay jinsoul, i’ll be there to make sure she doesn’t kill y/n or something,” heejin sighs.

“have fun!” serim encourages before going back to intensely focusing on digging her toes into the sand.

* * *

“are you 100% sure about this? my life’s feeling a little threatened.”

“you’ll be fine, y/n. i’m here to protect you,” jungeun comforts you with a wink.

heejin rolls her eyes at the two of you, “i’m going to surf over there and leave you two by yourselves. holler if y/n dies. i don’t care what happens to jungeun, as long as i’m not going to be blamed for it.”

you and jungeun snort as heejin swims away.

“so, first you’re going to jump on the board and sit on it. you need to learn how to balance before you do anything.”

you groan as you haul yourself up on the board. everybody say yay for public embarrassment!

luckily, you’re still in shallow water and jungeun is holding your board so you don’t get obliterated by the waves just yet.

you sit on the board. “what now?” you ask, conflicted between looking digruntled and attentive.

“now, you’re going to stand up,” jungeun is trying not to grin maniacally. you’re resentful but still listening so well and it’s the most endearing thing she’s ever seen.

“quit smiling like that. i know you’re trying not to laugh at me,” you whine.

jungeun just shakes her head. you have no idea.

with wobbly legs, you squat on your board and slowly stand up. however, your limbs decide to mutiny against you and you lose your balance, falling into the water.

“let’s try that again,” jungeun says, helping you up.

this time, she grabs hold of your hand as you try to stand up again. you’re still for a few seconds before your legs get wild once again. however, jungeun rests her hand on your waist in order to center you.

this gesture causes you to lose focus even more. normally you’re chill about people being touchy with you or even flirting, but for some reason jungeun is making you internally combust. must be the way her eyebrows quirk up whenever she speaks to you, or the subtle touches, or her natural commanding persona, or how she tries really hard to look cold but you just know she’s a big softie, or-

“hey, you good? you look murderous.”

“yeah, i’m fine,” you pause for a second, recalling where you are.

“wait, i’m standing up!” you exclaim.

jungeun chuckles at your realization, “good observation.”

“can we try actually surfing now?”

“sure, you might fall again, but you seem to learn fast.”

“it’s okay, the water will catch me.”

“i guess it will,” jungeun shrugs, and the two of you swim into the open ocean together.

@catgirlkimlip put many thots in my head

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the-lincyclopedia · 3 years

Photo

* adapted from @librajiminn on twitter

A fun game to celebrate 2020 ending! The rules are simple: recommend your favorite OMGCP fics so everyone can enjoy them, while trying to fill in enough slots to get a bingo!

This is going to get long, so I’ll put it under a cut. Also, I’m too orderly to try to shoehorn my favorite fics into these particular prompts, so I’m just going to go right to left, top to bottom, taking the prompts literally, until it’s bedtime.

1. first fic you bookmarked: “Here Comes the Sun” by @doggernaut, 19k, G, no warnings, Zimbits

For the past month, the man with the baby and the sad blue eyes has been stopping in for a cup of coffee an hour before closing. He always sits in an overstuffed chair in the corner and drinks his coffee while his baby sleeps next to him in the stroller. Sometimes he pulls a book out from the diaper bag he carries with him; other times he just stares straight ahead as if in a daze. He never asks for a refill, always respectfully gathers his things and leaves ten minutes before the shop officially closes. Eric desperately wants to ask him what his story is.

My notes: I read Check Please over the course of two days in June of 2019. On the second day, right after catching up, I looked at @peppermintfeminist‘s AO3 bookmarks and found a fic by @doggernaut. Then I read just about everything @doggernaut had ever posted. It was glorious. This fic in particular is so cute.

2. most recent fic you bookmarked: “Flight Check” by @edgarallanrose, 15k, E, no warnings (though there is a creepy/handsy guy at a club to watch out for), primarily Zimbits with most of the other popular pairings in the background

Flight attendant Eric “Bitty” Bittle has been working his way up at Samwell Airlines for the past four years, and his new promotion has provided him the opportunity to work with a brand-new crew. Unfortunately for Bitty, that crew includes an incredibly handsome but equally grumpy pilot, Captain Jack Zimmermann, who seems to want nothing to do with Bitty. Even worse, Jack refuses to eat any of Bitty's baked goods. Will Bitty be able to win the captain over? Or is there another reason Jack has been avoiding Bitty?

My notes: There are a lot of great things about this fic--Jack’s character arc, Lardo’s dialogue, that scene in Seattle--but the reason I bookmarked it is the scene where Bitty’s basically slut-shaming himself and Jack gently but firmly tells Bitty not to do that and that it was the creep’s fault.

3. a fic that made you cry actual tears: “a little bit more” by @ivecarvedawoodenheart, 14k, T, no warnings, Holsom

“I just wanted,” he says, “a perfect day. With you. Because it’s our last day together and our last day being here as undergrads and we’re kissing the ice tonight, and the weather’s supposed to be beautiful, and you’re moving tomorrow and Holtzy I just — I don’t want to be missing you already.” Holster wipes his eyes before he even realizes he’s crying. Behind him, Ransom sighs. “One more day where everything’s the same,” he says, feeling around blindly for Rans’ fingers. He feels Rans nod as he laces their fingers together. “Yeah. Yeah, Rans. I’d like that a lot.” __________________________

Holsom after graduation and throughout the subsequent six months after Holster signs to an expansion team in Oregon, and realizes his feelings for Ransom too late. Holster's POV :) kinda angsty, but there's a happy ending :)

Inspired by shitty-check-please-aus: "Holster moves to Oregon while Ransom stays on the east coast. The time difference makes it difficult to talk and one day they wake up and realize they aren’t best bros anymore."

My notes: I almost never cry at fics. I searched “tears” in my fandom email account and only a handful of my fic comments came up, but Syd is a literal master of Holsom angst, always.

4. longest fic you’ve read: “Like Real People Do” by @xiaq, 153k, M, No Warnings, Kent Parson x OC

Parson gestures with his spoon toward Hawke. “So am I allowed to ask about the service dog or is that not PC?”

“My medical history is more of a 3rd date conversation," Eli says.

“Oh? Why’s that?”

“Because. No one sticks around afterward and I like to live in glorious denial for a short period beforehand.”

It comes out more self-deprecating than he intended.

Parson looks…thoughtful. “Well, does this count as one or two?

“Pardon?”

“This. Ice cream. I mean, technically it’s a second location, but still the same night. So is this one date or two?”

“One,” Eli says firmly. “If it’s happening within the same three-hour period.”

“You’re the expert,” Parson says, which, he’s really, really, not, but ok.

“So still two dates to go then?” Parson continues.

“I—what?”

“We’ve got a roadie coming up but then we’re home for almost two weeks. When does your semester start?”

“You want to do this again?” Eli asks.

Parson stops idly twirling his spoon.

“You don’t?”

He does, Eli realizes. He really does. Because apparently he actually likes Kent fucking Parson.

My notes: Okay, this fic has my whole entire heart. I’ve read it multiple times in its entirety, and it’s almost twice as long as the full-length novel I’m querying. Eli is one of my favorite OCs I’ve ever seen in a fic (probably tied with Damian Navarro and Ari Paxton, both brainchildren of @fozmeadows). Anyway, this is probably going to be the next thing @themeaningoflifeischeese and I read out loud to each other.

5. a fic you almost didn’t read: “when all else fails (i’ll still be right here)” by @whoacanada, 6k, T, Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings (and I don’t remember if I think there’s stuff to warn for, sorry), Zimbits

The National Hockey League is resurrecting the Quebec City Nordiques, and the expansion draft hits the Falconers much harder than expected.

My notes: Given that this was for @omgcpheartbreakfest, I was worried this would be all angst--all hurt and no comfort. Which made me sad, because I love @whoacanada‘s writing but I wasn’t up for reading unresolved angst. But @doggernaut reblogged the fic, so I asked if the ending was sad, and it’s NOT! There is quite a bit of angst but the ending isn’t sad.

6. a fic that convinced you on a ship you didn’t ship before: “it drops with the gravity of rain” by @geniusorinsanity, 16k, T, Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings (attempted sexual assault by an OC), Nurseydex

It happens like this:

“I don’t--this is a bad idea,” Dex says, his lips still tingling, his hands shaking on Nursey’s hips where he’s shoved him away. “This is a really bad idea, Nurse. I can’t--We can’t do this.”

And there’s hurt in Nursey’s eyes and his bottom lip is swollen from Dex’s teeth, but he says, “Okay.” And then, “It’s chill, Dex. Just friends, then.”

It happens like this:

“Actually,” Nursey says, talking more to his granola than to them, “I kind of have a date.”

It happens like this:

When Nursey calls, Dex almost doesn’t pick up the phone.

My notes: So I was really confused and a little disturbed when I first found out people shipped Nursey and Dex. Like, Dex just wasn’t someone I trusted. But then I was moving out of the house I’d been living in, and I needed stuff to listen to as I packed and cleaned, and @khashanakalashtar‘s podfics came in clutch. I gave this one a try even though I didn’t like Dex, and @geniusorinsanity blew. My. Mind.

7. a fic from an unusual POV: “Excuse Me While I Kiss This Guy” by @porcupine-girl, 8k, G, no warnings, Zimbits

Jesse Snowden knows all the best restaurants and gourmet food shops in Providence, so when Jack Zimmermann starts bringing in incredible baked goods, he's eager to find out where the new bakery is. When he meets the man behind the pies, he decides that there's no way Jack could really appreciate this guy's talent the way he does, even if they are friends. He starts hiring Jack's chef on the side, in the hopes that maybe once Bitty's done with college he'll come work for Jesse.

Good thing there is absolutely no way whatsoever that Jesse could possibly be misinterpreting this situation.

My notes: Oh my gosh this is so funny. The secondhand embarrassment factor is huge, but like, the hilarity.

8. a comfort fic: “Don’t Need to Compromise” by @khashanakalashtar, 11k, E, no warnings, PB&J

“Hey,” said Kent, unknowingly setting off a chain of events that would change his entire life, “you said that like you know from experience. Have you done this before?”

Jack and Bitty have not done polyamory before, but they do know Ransom and Holster’s polycule, which contains March.

And March?

March is trans.

My notes: I’m in love with @khashanakalashtar‘s entire Directionverse series (and honestly a lot of their other writing), but “Don’t Need to Compromise,” which is the second fic in the series, just makes my heart swell especially much. The gender feels are so good, and all the characters are so good to each other, and when I listen to this on walks I have to actively try not to arm-flap.

9. a fic you wish could be a movie: “Ice Crew Please!” by @petals42, 61k, T, no warnings, Zimbits

Jack Zimmermann was drafted first by the Providence Falconers when he was eighteen years old. He is good at hockey. Very good. His team won the Cup his second year and now, in his third year, they are looking good. Jack should be on top of the world. And some days, he manages to convince himself he is.

He’s not, of course.

Enter the Ice Crew.

AKA: The Ice Crew AU

My notes: This fic has its tender moments, but what I love most about it is the sheer goofiness. Ransom and Holster and Shitty are HILARIOUS in this one. I’d love to see their shenanigans in movie form.

10. a WIP you read as it was updated: “Something Borrowed” by @fozmeadows, 48k, M, no warnings, Kent x OC

All things considered, Ari did his best to prepare himself for the advent of Kent Parson, Potentially Difficult Housemate and New Star Liney. The problem was that his best was an idiot.

My notes: So technically I didn’t start reading this until the first 19 chapters were posted. But there was still plenty of anticipation for the final few chapters. And like, @fozmeadows (as mentioned above) makes EXCELLENT OCs. And I love how their fics consistently convey that having bad things happen to you does not mark the end of your story.

Okay, it’s bedtime, so have 10 excellent fics. I got bingo twice, because I went straight across on the top two rows.

#mine #omgcp #omgcheckplease #check please #fic recs

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jeanjauthor · 3 years

Note

I was reading about mediveal horses in fantasy and how they’re unrealistic. And usually the horses were avarge. But isn’t a shire horse origin in 1066-Ish? Could that be used in a mediveal fantasy?

It could be, but you might want to do some research to know what those shire horses were actually used for, and what they weren’t. Horses were not owned by everyone, and were not put to the plow for a long time. Why not? Because horses were more expensive than oxen.

An ox is nothing more than a castrated bull that’s been trained to pull a plow, a wagon, etc, and if you have cows for milk and dairy and beef, you’d want to keep most of the females, but not keep most of the males--not as bulls, because your cattle would be goring each other. So any male cattle born would be assessed for qualities, and either kept for stud (only 1-2 on a farm, IF you have the room to keep a bull separate from the cows), slaughtered for beef, or castrated and trained to be a work animal.

Cows will drop a fairly equal ratio of the genders, but female cattle produce milk, making them valuable to keep around and keep fed. Horses...well, Mongols might milk mares, but that really wasn’t an European thing, which is what a lot of fantasy (talking about the stuff written in English, here) is based upon. And mares don’t produce nearly as much milk as cows do. So economically, it makes more sense to keep cattle around and put them to work in the earlier medieval periods.

Shire horses are huge because they are meant for pulling plows and wagons (their solid hooves don’t break up the rows and the soil nearly as much as the split hooves of cattle). They’re not usually trained to carry armored warriors into battle, etc. Medievally, there were horses trained for specific tasks, like the smooth-gaited riding palfrey. It was not a specific breed of horse, instead being picked for its temperament and trained in its movements. While certain knights did have big destriers to ride...the majority of mounted warriors actually rode smaller horses, like rounceys and coursers.

And of course, the mule is often overlooked. This hybrid between a donkey and a mare was the “workhorse” of medieval life, if it wasn’t oxen. They could carry a lot more weight, were more intelligent, and ate less (or at least didn’t have to eat as much quality food in winter), making them inexpensive to keep. There might have been mules trained for warfare, for scouting, and certainly for “blending in” when spying on a neighboring region. Just go in as a trader or traveler with your packs on your mule, and people won’t think twice.

Additionally, you might want to research when stirrups were invented and used--Roman cavalry did not have stirrups, because while they were invented in BCE Asia, they didn’t reach Europe until some time after the collapse of the Roman Empire.

...As you can see, using a shire horse for something in your story in a way that your equestrian-knowledgeable readers won’t go “...wtf??” over can require a bit of educational effort. Presuming this is a fantasy set in a created world and not an historical real-world setting, you can get away with many things...but if there’s one thing to take away from all of this, understand that shire horses are BIG, and will need to EAT. Lotta pounds on that thar horse!

And they’re not a bicycle. Your character cannot just get off their steed and go inside a house for the night. That horse must be given water, and a rubdown, the saddle needs to be removed to prevent galling and sores and scarring from those saddle sores, they need to have adequate food of the right quality--shire horses are big, so they need a lot of calories, but you cannot give a horse nothing but grain, however high-calorie that feed may be. They need fiber from grasses and hay--they do not eat straw, which is calorically and nutritionally deficient!--they may even need tree browse (yes, horses and cattle will eat leaves, not just grasses), and sometimes you’ll want to feed them fruit, but not always.

Also, sugar cubes are very much an Industrial Revolution thing, because the cubes are made via complex machinery. Sugar lumps are what you’d serve medievally...but you’d probably not give pure sugar to a horse, because sugar is expensive in a medieval setting. Honey drizzled over dried fruit slices would be a more likely treat, and you’d certainly feed your horse (or donkey, mule, etc) the core from your apple or your pear.

Additionally, horses are herd animals. They need companions around them or they become distressed from anxiety and nervousness, not having other sets of eyes and ears to help watch out for danger. This doesn’t have to be another horse...though it should be, on a farm. There are companion animals that are goats and mules and donkeys, and I’ve even heard of dogs and cats--yes, housecats, or more properly, barncats--being companion animals to horses.

Consider your characters’ socio-economic backgrounds before assigning them a shire horse, make sure they treat that horse as a living being in need of care and not like a bicycle that can be easily set aside and forgotten about, and decide if what you need is a really big horse (because sometimes you do!) or if something smaller or faster or whatever might serve your story better.

And lastly, horses cannot gallop for more than a few minutes. Galloping is sprinting. Not even Usain Bolt can sprint for more than a few minutes! Cantering is also not something that can be maintained 24/7, or even for an entire hour. Horses need to be ridden at the walk, the amble, and/or the trot as much or more often as at the canter, especially when burdened with armor, gear, rider, etc.

Humans can out-distance horses over the long run.

We are pursuit predators. While horses and dogs can outrun us in a sprint, we can literally walk other animals to death. Wolves can almost keep up with a reasonably fit human who is used to walking everywhere (which is your basic medieval traveler)...but even though wolves are pros at long-distance travel, they still have to stop and rest more frequently, and horses far more frequently still. Horses give us the advantage of short bursts of higher speed, and the ability to carry or (even better yet) pull far more weight in supplies, etc, than we can haul ourselves...but they cannot run forever.

If your human has enough of a head start that can negate the sprinting capacity of a horse, and if there is enough underbrush to just barely admit a human to pass through it, but not a horse, a human on foot can escape from mounted people pursuing them.

...All of this is just scratching the surface of writing realistic horses in fantasy, and I am not an expert by any means. (I have, however, listened to many, and done my own research.) So...go chat with equestrians, ask them questions, look up resources online, and ask yourself some questions.

How would this character have/afford a shire horse? How would they train this horse? What uses would they have for this horse? How do they take care of the horse? What equipment do they carry for taking care of the horse, riding, etc? What companion animals does the horse get to have? What are their plans for recovering the horse if it spooks and runs off? How much does the horse consider the character a friend and/or herd-member?

Yes, you could ignore all these questions and just have the horse around when it’s convenient and vanish it when it’s inconvenient...but unless it’s like an enchanted bridle or a brooch, a ring, a summoning statuette, whatever, imbued with the spirit of a faithful steed (fantasy writing is great for this stuff)...you’re going to need to thing about these sorts of things if you want to have your horses in your fantasy setting be realistic enough that the equestrian community won’t *facepalm heavysigh* any time they read a scene in your story with an equine.

The “enchanted bridle” thing is how I pretend my characters in World of Warcraft don’t have to worry about actually housing, feeding, etc, their steeds, and it’s how they can ride or fly all day without tiring because it’s not a living being, it’s an enchantment full of magic. BUT, if you’re going to go this route because it’s easier...you’ll still need to consider, how did your character acquire this enchanted object? How could they afford it? Did they make it themselves? Or did they find it, or steal it? How is it powered? Does it have a limit to how much it can be used in a day, or summoned and dismissed and resummoned? Does it require a set period of waiting time between being dismissed and being resummoned?

Is there a chance of this enchanted item breaking? Remember, it doesn’t have to break at the worst moment in the story; it could break earlier, when they have time to fix or replace it...but do they have the resources to fix or replace it? Not just in terms of buying or craft, but, are enchanted bridles or horse statuettes common in that region? For that matter, if they’re not common, is it going to cause confusion to people when they go around or into a building for a few moments, only to come back to see absolutely zero horse anywhere, because while they were gone you dismounted and dismissed the enchantment?

...Okay, okay, I’ve gone on long enough! You can see how this one topic can quickly get out of hand. And again, I am not an expert on equestrians in stories. But if you do a bit of research and keep some realism in mind...you can write realistic scenes involving horses, shire style or otherwise.

#writing #research #horses #horses in fiction #horses in fantasy #medieval transportation #medieval uses for horses #medieval kinds of horses #there is more to medieval transportation than just horses #oxen #enchanted mounts

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im-the-punk-who · 4 years

Note

Hey, I was wondering if you have a book rec

Okay so in full disclosure, I have a really hard time reading books. My brain sometime around six years ago just decided that wasn't its style anymore, so I don't read a TON. A lot of these aren’t going to be recent releases. However, here are a bunch of books I would absolutely recommend checking out! I tried to include a variety of genres but I have uh.....five bookshelves in my apartment so if you're looking for more of a certain genre let me know!

Theatre:

Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead - Tom Stoppard

Waiting for Godot - Samuel Beckett

These are my two favorite plays - they're both absurdist, humorous, and have some fun things to say. They’re both by old white guys but like....I love both Tom Stoppard and Samuel Beckett DEEPLY and they have all of my love and respect.

Non-Fiction/Educational:

Why are all the Black Kids Sitting Together in the Cafeteria by Beverly Daniel Tatum - this is considered a 'classic' on the psychology of racism, and was particularly helpful for me as a white person in arming myself against 'reverse racism' thoughts and in dissembling my own prejudices. This is mostly a rec for other white folks, but Tatum also addresses 'having the courage to sit at the black table' as a way of claiming your own identity outside of the stereotypes the dominant society expects of you.

Daring Greatly by Brene Brown - Okay listen I just really REALLY love Brene Brown, she is a therapist most famous for her TED talk about Vulnerability and this is just...listen I really like to read this book when I am sad and feel like shit because it makes me feel strong. I reread this book at least once a year.

Imagined Communities by Benendict Anderson - This is an absolutely fascinating read on the rise of nationalism. It’s a bit dry and wordy, but the ideas and use of history as propaganda, spinning the story of a nation to pit it against or on the same side as other nations, and the ways in which these tactics shaped cultural history is just!!!! Amazing.

Gay New York by George Chauncey - This is just one of the most informative and interesting reads of queer history in New York that I’ve ever come across. It’s one of the ‘must reads’ of queer history and has so many interesting tidbits that I have to recommend it. It’s a bit old(published in 1994) but I still find it relevant and interesting to read.

Personal Fiction/Autobiographical Fiction

White Girls by Hilton Als - I went to a reading of this book when it first came out. It was so much fun and so eye-opening for me as a baby queer in NYC that I bought the book there. I wanna be really clear that Als does not pull punches and a lot of people don’t quite like it, but I love Als’ style of writing. The stories and essays in this book are amazing and funny and heartbreaking and informative of queer experience - particularly black queer experience - that I always feel like...honored? to experience through writing? This is one of those ‘you’re gonna suffer but you’re gonna be happy about it’ reads - it can be hard to face because of how very hard the pills are to swallow but like....gosh I just love this book and it’s interesting and hilarious and great.

Confessions of an Economic Hitman by John Perkins - this is my tin hat favorite. It hits....ugh. This is one of those books that came out and like every government agency freaked the fuck out over it. It’s an interesting look into the quote-unquote dark underbelly of capitalism; how and why countries manipulate each other through economic policies. Super interesting read with a nice style of prose.

The Know-It-All: One Man's Humble Quest to become the Smartest Person in the World by A.J. Jacobs Okay so full disclosure I have not finished reading this, but I’m far enough through to rec it. This book chronicles the author’s attempt to read the entire Encyclopedia Brittanica from front to back, and it is just as kooky and hilarious as it sounds. I am very incredibly and deeply offended this author stole both my schtick and my initials, thereby preventing me from doing this exact thing. I read through the phone book in its entirety when I was three. I had it in me. Anyway, this is basically the author just listing weird interesting facts he’s read about and connecting them to his daily life, but it’s a fun read, and you learn a lot of totally useless facts, which is absolutely my jam.

When Skatboards Will Be Free by Saïd Sayrafiezadeh - HI I LOVE THIS BOOK. I’ve read it maybe three times over. It’s so fun and interesting. You may notice that a lot of the books I rec are very absurdist in their humor, and this is no exception. This book is full of the dry wit and just weird goddamn shit you could only expect from the child of a revolution that never came. You want to read a book about someone who Went Through Shit? Read this book. It’s funny and heartbreaking and just. AHHHH. Seriously I cannot recommend this enough.

Hyperbole and a Half by Allie Brosch - FIGHT ME ON THIS. I love this book.....so much. Yes it’s technically a comic book but the stories are so INTERESTING and hilarious and full of exactly the dry absurdist humor I eat the fuck up. Also! Allie Brosch recently released a sequel of sorts called Solutions and Other Problems that I recommend without even reading it.

Poetry

Pansy by Andrea Gibson - IF YOU ARE NOT READING THE POETRY OF ANDREA GIBSON WHAT ARE YOU EVEN DOING WITH YOUR LIFE. I cried seven times reading this book. There are only like 14 poems. Please please read this to break your own queer heart :)

Bloodsport by Yves Olade - This is a tiny book full of absolutely devastating poetry. Most of it has to do with the grief of relationships, but like....gosh I love all of Olade’s stuff. (Also!! This is available as a pay-what-you-wish pdf!!)

Bright Dead Things by Ada Limón - This book focuses a lot on the author’s experiences of loss, and knowing that loss is going to happen. I’m completely devastated every time I read this.

Science Fiction/Fantasy

The Bartimeaus Sequence by Jonathan Stroud - So what if I am a dumb millennial I love this series. It’s another dry and deadpan humor, with weird additions and Stroud’s use of footnotes to absolutely crack me the fuck up means I gotta rec this. I just gotta. Four(I think?) books following the deeply unlikeable Nathaniel and his Djinn Bartimaeus, who just wants to eat humans and have a deeply enjoyable enemies to lovers plotline with his arch rival.

The Magic's Price Trilogy by Mercedes Lackey - Okay I know I’ve recced this before. I will rec it again. This was the very first series I ever read that featured a gay protagonist and I was. Devastated? Reformed? I latched onto Vanyel Ashkevron and I am never letting this depressed emo boy go. Try me, I bite. Seriously, this book was released in the 80s and yet it is still relevant, I still cry - god i LOVE this series SO MUCH. And, MERCEDES LACKEY actually invented unbury your gays, sorry I make the rule on that one. :) Also there are magic talking horses??????? Seriously please read this series I love it so much.

Fire Bringer & The Sight by David Clement-Davies - This is another series that was absolutely formative in my baby lexicon. These are books about magical animals and their inner societal workings and both books address the ideas of good, evil, darkness, compassion and good will, and destiny. I am obsessed with these books, they are some of the most interesting of the genre I’ve read, and so incredibly intricately written. LOVE these books.

Vampire Earth Series by E. E. Knight - The Witcher before it was cool. Sort of but like...there are schools of Cat, Bear, etc and it has COOL VAMPIRES I LOVE THSI SERIES. Basically, earth has been taken over by a race of alien ‘Vampires’ and follows a human involved in the resistance. The writing in this series is...wow. It’s so intricate and interesting and involved. I own the whole series because I love it so much, including the after-series hardback novels. I’m so messy and I love it.

Kindred by Octavia Butler - You know how people are like ‘YOU SHOULD READ OCTAVIA BUTLER!!’ ? You should absolutely do that. This novel is mindblowing and interesting and the pace and narrative are so so so interesting. Heartbreaking, god, horrific. Butler is an amazing writer and this novel, while my personal favorite, is not by any means the only of her books I would recommend. STORIES. STORIES!!!!!!!

Fiction

The Ballad of Barnabas Pierkiel: A Novel by Magdalena Zyzak - This book is so fucking good. It’s imaginative, funny, intelligent....it’s honestly one of the best fiction novels I’ve ever read. Again, dry, absurdist humor, this book sort of reminds me of Terry Pratchett’s style of writing.

The Call of the Wild by Jack London - This is a classic, a true classic. The social commentary of this book is so so good, London’s style flows and, personally, as a dog and animal expert, the anthropomorphisation of Buck and his fellow animals is just so well done. I love this book, it’s quite an easy read, and I reread it at least once a year.

Rolling the R's by R. Zamora Linmark - Okay. Okay okay!!!!!! I gotta take a deep breath about this one. This book is. Yuh. This is a bit younger leaning than the other fictions, focusing almost entirely on high school level characters, however the experiences and commentary is just so so good. Focusing on a diverse group of characters growing up in Hawaii in the 1970′s, this book addresses the intersectionalities of gender, sexuality, race, immigration, education, and how we define who we are. I’m obsessed.

A Separate Peace by John Knowles - A heartbreaking novel about war, innocence, adolescence, and how we hide from our truths. It’s...so good, this book hurts me a LOT okay. The prose is phenomenal, the story is poignant, and it feels like I’m ripping my own heart out with a fishhook every time I finish it.

The Toss of a Lemon by Padma Viswanathan - This is one of those books I half recommend because it’s so good, and half because of the deep wealth of knowledge it presents the reader. The author’s use of her own culture is just....goddddddddd. Intricate and interesting and so delicately included in the narrative that you can feel the love the author has for it. It’s a long read and it took me almost a month to get through reading every day, but god. It’s so soft and amazingly written I both wanted to read it all at once and take my time with it. This is another one that deals with the duality of humanity and how we connect with one another. Ahhhhhhhhh!!!!

P.S. Your Cat Is Dead by James Kirkwood Jr. - I love this book I love this book I LOVE THIS BOOK. It’s fucking hilarious, entertaining, I literally laughed out loud at every single chapter. Hilarious and poignant and surprisingly deep, this book literally follows the journey of a man in which literally everything that could go wrong does. It’s fucking hilarious.

I hope that helped and gave you some new books!!! <3

#long post #book recs #milo writes

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gilbirda · 4 years

Text

About couples of 3 and other wishes

Hikaru and Kaoru loved her so much, and at the same time. They were afraid of rejection, that's true, but they were more afraid of being alone in their little world once again. Even so, they risked it and asked Haruhi out. "Would you go out with us? Both. At the same time."

Sequel >> Read in AO3||Read in FF.net .

Haruhi has never been a complicated girl, she preferred simple things. She enjoyed hunting sales at the supermarket and living her commoner’s life at peace.

Well, as peaceful as it can be having the Ouran Host Club as her best friends. Yes, she loved them and thought of them as her friends although they bother her more than she would like to. She treasured her time with them and today was no exception, not even when she had to cosplay as a greek goddess (obviously without the customers finding out her gender) and had to play scenes of mythology with the host, getting fangirl screams in the process.

She loved her normal and simple life, her normal days at school with the boys.

What she didn’t know was how her relationship with them had changed. She was so dense that she still hadn’t realized the way that even Kyoya looked at her from time to time when he wasn’t writing down new additions to her debt on his notebook. Even Kyoya! Slowly, the petite girl has wrapped the most influential men in the country, and probably the world, around her finger. And that without counting guys like Kasanoda that weren’t on the Host club.

But, let’s not talk about that. This is about two lovers in particular, the Hitachiin twins. They both loved her but couldn’t agree with who should get the girl, even if she would want them that is. They loved her, at the same time, and often fought because of that; but always hiding it from the other so as not to get in any troubles as the last time.

Haruhi would never love them both, they knew that. It was impossible to… have a couple with three people, it wouldn’t work. On one hand, there was the moral part: society would not agree and they will be pointed at everyday; it would destroy Haruhi’s dream to be a successful lawyer, they couldn’t do that to her. On the other hand, it was themselves: Hikaru is very jealous and he couldn’t even share his brother with other people (which are their friends), although he has been controlling it; otherwise, Kaoru, used to give up everything to his brother, to lie for him, and knew that Haruhi hated it. They knew it was difficult and would never work out.

That is if she chose them, of course, and if Haruhi would have a relationship with two people at the same time.

It was reckless, they knew, but they were so madly in love that every day it seemed a better idea, the best one. It wasn’t about choosing between their brother or the love of their life anymore, about breaking a life-long friendship or losing her forever. They already do everything together, and always found a way to do so. Why not take it further?

First, they did a few tests, just to be sure.

They took her to their house to introduce her to their parents, sitting together at the table and acting as normal as they could with her, trying if they could really do everything together; but Haruhi was the natural host and it went smoothly as usual.

Then, they went further and invited her to sleep in their house. They didn’t try anything perverted, and of course they didn’t tell Tamaki about it (but probably Kyoya knew everything), so it was just the three of them alone. They did not want to bug the King of the Host Club nor make fun of anyone nor take good pictures for Kyoya to sell to the best bidder; just them as the best friends they were. Haruhi, as oblivious as always, just went along and laughed with them. She wasn’t disturbed by the fact of sharing a room. Maybe she doesn’t consider us as men, said Kaoru when they thought about their possibilities. They wanted to change that.

And then, at last, one day in their break at the host club when they didn’t have any customers, they chatted with her as usual, as normal as possible, until they asked what they wanted to know.

“Say, Haruhi,” said simultaneously, “would you go out with a host?” It’s not that they wanted to encourage her to go out with any of them, they just wanted to know if she saw them as possible… partners? in the future. She thought a few seconds that were important while Hikaru and Kaoru were thankful that the other hosts were busy and weren’t listening. “Well, I won’t deny that I’ve thought about that sometime,” she put a serious face, but they knew her and saw the small spark in her big, brown eyes, “but I can’t think about that stuff right now. I need to study to keep my scholarship”

Translation: yes, she has thought about them in that kind of situation out of the Host Club stuff. And that means they had hope.

And for that, they chose to risk it. Haruhi has been always very understanding and mature in her decisions; is what they thought when the option of losing her friendship was obvious when they’ll tell her their idea:

They wanted a relationship with her. They both, at the same time.

***

She didn’t know why she was still here, on top of a ski slope lost somewhere in a mountain whose name she couldn’t pronounce but sounded like a type of cheese.

With a serious face, she tried to remember how she got there in the first place. She was peacefully making her father’s dinner at home, when people in black clothes broke into her house, put her in a bag and pushed her inside a car that sped down the street. Nobody spoke to her and she stood very still, as she was used to, knowing it just has to be one of her host friends. What a sense of humor, she thought bitterly when they finally got her out of the car (a limousine?) and shove her inside a… plane?

Okay, this was more than enough.

Freed from her bag, she took in her surroundings as her eyes grew used to the brightness as the flight attendants gave instructions in english. Great, she was in a private jet in her ugly “house clothes”, in a very bad mood, with the ones and only twins.

“What the heck am I doing here?” she growled knitting her eyebrows and crossing her arms.

“We are taking you out this weekend!” said Hikaru. “What do you think?” asked Kaoru.

“And you need a private jet for ‘going out’?” she raised an eyebrow, incredulous.

The trip ended up being a ski trip to a very high mountain (with a lot of dangerous cliffs, by the way) in a country which name they didn’t want to tell her because “she’d want to turn around when she knew”. They were positive that she wasn’t used to traveling by private jets to the other part of the world and she would throw a fit.

Commoners.

So, she was about to do something that’d hurt, a lot, because she already could see her becoming a giant snowball rolling down the hill.

“What are you doing, Haruhi?” asked Kaoru, jumping above her head in his snowboard. They both went to a higher place, for experts. “Come on! It’ll be fun!” said Hikaru flashing just by her at top speed.

She eyed them with a little sweatdrop falling in the back of her head. She looked down again, where the silhouettes of the twins swirled gracefully, and for a second she thought it couldn’t be half bad. She thought that maybe she wouldn’t die.

She let go, knowing it was a very bad idea the moment she felt the wind hit the uncovered skin of her face. Yep, now she was positive she wouldn’t make it alive. She closed her eyes expecting the snow in her mouth, and maybe other parts of her body as well, and the bruises that will come; but nothing happened at all, just the feeling of the unmerciful wind slowly dying away and other people’s voices around.

She carefully opened her hazel eyes finding she was perfectly fine and alive at the end of the hill, people looking astonished and the twins laughing their heads off in the background. Of her, probably.

She snorted, feeling her face hot, and took off her skis before approaching her friends while avoiding the curious stares. She looked daggers at them when she got there and threw the skis at them.

“You should have seen your face!”

“You even closed your eyes!”

“It’s not even funny”, she said, trying not to turn away and leave. “I could have died.”

“But, why did you close your eyes? Is even more dangerous!”

“I don’t know how did you dodge those people so fast with your eyes closed”

She glared at them, crossing her arms.

“Beginner's luck”, they simply said and shrugged. Haruhi sighed again and slowly her face relaxed. She couldn’t be angry with them for much longer, they were her friends. Her best friends.

“I think skiing is over for today”, she said, taking off her helmet. While untying her gloves, she noticed that the twins were strangely silent. Lifting her head, she looked at the weird glint in their eyes, but she was interrupted before she could ask. “What..?”

“If you don’t wanna ski…”, started Hikaru smiling, taking off his stuff and throwing it around. Strangely enough, someone appeared out of nowhere and took them elsewhere.

“...then….”, said Kaoru with a smile as big as his brother’s.

“Let’s go sightseeing!”, they shouted.

Oh, mother... , thought the girl, already feeling tired for the things she was going to be forced to do.

***

She was literally tired. She couldn’t feel her feet, her head was pounding like crazy and she was going to faint sometime soon. Her bag, which wasn’t really her bag but some clothes the twins have lent her, was filled with more presents for her father than she ever has got him before, and souvenirs from that place (which name she had finally learned and fought with the twins because of that) that she couldn’t close it properly.

She just wanted to get a shower and sleep. Nothing else mattered. And because of that she didn’t realize she was being guided to a hotel room, filled with luxuries that she didn’t look at, but just one room. For them.

She neither saw when the twins put two beds together to make a queen sized one and hers was right next to it or that the clothes she found in her suitcase weren’t her oversized t-shirt and old pjs’ pants.

Neither she saw the anxious faces of the twins. It is true that they were acting strange all the way through the town, but they always got to distract her in time until she forgot about it.

As she took her shower, Hikaru looked at his brother Kaoru, who nodded. Now was the time. They would bet everything they had and risk their relationship with Haruhi tonight. They were scared, very scared, but they knew they had to do it; and knowing Haruhi it’d end well one way or another. She always took things with a calm face. She always did the right thing.

They had to believe it.

They waited until she finished and when they saw her in the pajamas they chose for her, towelling her hair, they rose from their seats and sighed. It’s now or never, they thought.

“Haruhi”, said Kaoru softly. She looked at them with fatigue in her eyes.

“Sit down, please”, said Hikaru pointing at a chair close to the beds. They sat in front of her.

“Did something happen?”, she asked, getting worried and trying to put the tiredness aside for them. She frowned slightly thinking about what they could want.

“Relax, it isn’t something bad”, Kaoru took a mouthful of air and sighed. “Haruhi,” he could mutter with a serious face, “you are very important to us, not just for being the only one who can tell us apart, but also for being our very first true friend.”

“You make our days brighter and when we can’t see you we feel like something’s missing. We don’t know exactly when the way we see you changed, but before we could realize it we needed you, even more than we needed each other.” Hikaru continued.

“When we found out how we felt about you we knew it wasn’t going to end well.”

“We love you, Haruhi.”

She widened her eyes, surprised, but kept silent and let them continue.

“If one of us went for it, the other would suffer.”

“We were so scared, Haruhi”, confessed Kaoru and she believed it. Believed all of it. Naked emotion all over their faces; expressions like theirs could not tell lies.

“That’s why we… we thought about this.” This was the important part.

“Haruhi,” Kaoru breathed deeply and looked at his brother. He nodded. “Would you go out with us?”, they said, fixing their eyes to the big hazel of the frozen girl in front of them. “Both of us”, completed Kaoru. “At the same time”, finished Hikaru closing his eyes and waiting for rejection.

But nothing happened.

Startled, he opened his eyes only to find Haruhi in the same place, frozen like a statue and speechless. What could she be thinking? Would she hate them for proposing such a crazy idea? She was very logical, following rules all the time. She knew what was right and what wasn’t.

But there was no reaction at all. That was a bad signal, right? He turned to Kaoru, distressed, who probably wore the same face as him, and then looked to Haruhi when they heard her chair. She rose in silence, murmured something like she was going to sleep and went under the covers of her bed without saying another word.

Astonished, and a bit hurt for her lack of reaction, the twins stared at the floor knowing the obvious answer. No. A big, fat no in bold letters.

Hikaru closed his eyes trying to contain the tears that fought to be free and got up slowly with his hands fisted; then he went to his side of the bed in equal silence. Kaoru sighed and turned off the lights, going to the bed and allowing the weight of the moment to get to him. Then realized he wouldn’t get any sleep that night.

He sighed again, but this time it came choked in a strangled sob that he could hide in time in the darkness and quietness of the night. He heard another sob, but this one came from his brother.

He looked at his side and there he was, curled up in a ball and hiding his face on the pillow to muffle his crying. Because he was crying, he knew. He was his brother and knew what the other was feeling. He rolled to him and carefully hugged him, feeling his pain and trying to soothe it. They had failed and probably now Haruhi wouldn’t want anything to do with them, would treat them differently.

On the other bed, Haruhi was lying with her back turned to them, eyes wide open, but that was something they couldn’t know. Her heart beating fast and her brain repeating what had just happened again and again. Slowly processing what they had proposed, her thick head realizing why they had brought her here in the first place or why they were acting so weird today…

They were nervous.

She focused on the matter at hand. A couple of three people? They really got to share everything or adapt everything to fit them all and enjoy it together.

She thought about it some more; for example, the way they looked at her, the way they treated her or how they behaved that day. The twins loved her and most likely they knew that it wasn’t an easy thing, neither for her nor them.

She wasn’t blind, she knew how illegal this could be. It was not well regarded by society; they would be glared at, pointed at, and they’d try to hurt them or break them up. The boys were heirs of such a big company, this could bring their ruin. And there was their parents, of course. What would Ranka say about this? She was so scared.

But then she thought that to hell with those who cared what other people do with their lives, who they love. Because yes, she loved them. She was afraid and probably was going to be the hardest thing in her life but she wanted to at least try. It had been so long since she stopped seeing them as just friends, but she didn’t know what to do with these new feelings inside, so she tried to ignore them. Today had been an eye opener, though.

She turned and looked at the silhouettes of her friends in the bed at her side. Were they sleeping? If that was the case then she could tell them tomorrow… Wait, what was that? Sounded like a… sob?

She stood in her bed, putting away the blankets, and listened carefully to confirm that it was sob indeed. She silently got up and approached the twin’s bed just to face the most… heartwarming? thing in the world. Could be. She smiled, amusement barely drowning the sadness and orry - the twins, her best friends and who she was willing to try this couple of three, were crying in the arms of the other. They looked like children, and she realized that was what they were beyond the jokes, smirks and everyday pranks. They were completely different people when those were gone, now there was just their bare hearts and pure feelings.

She walked closer to their bed and gently caressed their faces, watching with newfound eyes under the moonlight that leaked from the window, and receiving their watery eyes with a content smile. The boys stared at her with hope shining brightly in their eyes and she nodded still smiling.

Full of happiness, the twins jumped to her and hugged her like they used to, so the girl could be shared and everyone had their part. Remaining tears ran down their cheeks while they smiled with joy.

“Haruhi...”, whispered Kaoru full of emotion.

“Yes, here I am”, she said and they knew she meant something more than just physically.

“Come here”, and Hikaru dragged her between them onto the double bed, Kaoru pulling the blanket over her as well, keeping her warm and comfy.

Her smile grew bigger when she felt their arms around her, Hikaru’s head in her chest and Kaoru’s somewhere between her shoulder and hair. She lifted a hand to caress Hikaru’s soft hair while closing her eyes to sleep peacefully at last.

“Haruhi,” whispered Hikaru a bit too softly for him. His face was so red that Haruhi internally laughed, amused by the sight. “Can I…. Can I kiss you?”

She froze not knowing what to say, but nodded a few seconds later. Carefully, he approached her lips and gently touched them with his feeling like this was what he has been waiting for all his life. It was sweet and warm, and everything he needed.

Kaoru watched in silence. He wasn’t going to hide the jealousy he felt of his brother; knowing this was Haruhi’s first kiss (with a man) and there weren't two of those for the twins.

With a “devilish brothers” trademark smile, he came up with an idea to have something “new” of Haruhi for both brothers. While waiting for them to finish he sniffed Haruhi’s scent in her neck, enjoying the warmth.

“Ah…”, he heard them sigh and admired their blushed happy cheeks. He then thought that maybe this was a bad idea and he should forfeit and leave them be, as he intended in the beginning; but smiled instead knowing that they would break up if he did because they knew how much he cared for both.

“Kaoru…”, Haruhi said, watching him and suspecting his thoughts. She lifted a hand to his hair and pulled to reach his mouth more easily, wanting to give equal attention to both brothers.

She felt again his soft warmth, so similar to Hika’s… but kinda different. It wasn’t better or worse, just different. And she so loved it. Haruhi happily kissed the boy and let him feel her love and acceptance of this relationship; but then something wet distracted her and a slight bite in her lower lip made her blush wildly. She opened her eyes and rolled them when she saw the devilish glint in the golden eyes of her now boyfriend. She smiled, letting him in nonetheless.

A new world of sensations disclosed before her, making her think “oh, so that’s why everyone's so obsessed with this”. It was even warmer and hot than before with Hikaru; more rash and demanding, but soft and tingly and nice. She loved it too.

When they finally got apart she was flying far away from there, floating like a feather. Hikaru demanded her attention and trapped her swollen lips with his own, taking advantage of her absent state of mind from Kaoru’s kiss. Without asking permission, he ventured in with his tongue and attacked her mouth mercilessly, but kindly, not wanting to take this somewhere uncomfortable for both and making sure that she could end it if she desired. She could always end this if she wanted.

Haruhi had to admit that this was way different from Kaoru. More enthusiastic, rash, fast and intense; making her realise that Hikaru had been wanting this from way long back. While Kaoru was more relaxed and controlled, Hikaru wanted her all and devoured her whole with his lips. And as she surrendered her body to the boy, she felt her mind abandon her right there and then. She couldn’t make even a coherent thought at the moment.

Her head was spinning out of control when they finally got apart and she could not feel the bites and kisses all around her neck and shoulders. So many caresses, so much love, that it was choking her. And it was doubled tonight.

Again one of the brothers captured her lips (Kaoru, she imagined by the slight calmness in the movement against them) while the other was kissing the sensitive skin of her throat. For a brief moment, she wondered if that’ll leave marks. But, well she will worry about that tomorrow.

***

The next morning, Haruhi woke up to sun rays hitting her right in the eyes. She frowned and opened them feeling really hot, too much, and couldn’t even move.

When she saw the sleeping faces of the twins, one on her chest and the other next to her head, she remembered everything that happened the previous night. She blushed and was about to scream, but stopped just in time to not wake the brothers. She sighed.

She watched them sleep for a while without worrying about the hour. Their faces were so relaxed and calm, a bit red by the heat, and a cute smile on their lips. It was such a contrast with the tears from last night when they thought that she despised them for asking if she was interested in them. They looked like scared kids, but that’s exactly what they essentially were: children. In so many ways. Especially in emotion management.

She felt someone stirr in his sleep and wake up. Kaoru, she knew instantly because he was always the first one to do it. She rolled her head and kissed his cheek softly to greet him. His eyes were bright and showed so much happiness that her heart skipped a beat.

“Good morning”, he whispered before kissing her in a chaste kiss on the lips.

“Good morning”, she smiled. “Shall we wake him up?”, Haruhi looked down to the redhead on her chest. Kaoru nodded.

Haruhi gently grabbed a handful of his hair and tugged, but no reaction came from the boy. She pulled with a bit more strength but still nothing. She sighed. Haruhi knew that Hika was a heavy sleeper, but this? She glanced at Kaoru expecting further instructions, but she found him pointing at his own lips, which were arched in a smile, his eyes shining with mischief. She rolled her eyes but still bowed down to press her lips softly on the other twin’s ones. (Not) Surprisingly, the boy was awake and trapped her there not wanting to let go, a very Chesire-like smile on his face.

Haruhi glared briefly at him but let it slide. She was just too happy to fake annoyance that long.

And then, because neither of them really wanted to get up, they stayed in bed for a while sharing hugs, kisses and cuddling nonstop, enjoying each other’s presence and new found love. Not even the heat seemed to bother them.

“Room service!”, said a voice through the door after a few knocks. Before they could move to get up, a maid opened said door and entered the room pushing a cart with covered food on it. “I brought lunch as you ordere-”

Her voice faded when she looked up from her carefully placed plates and cups and finally saw the twins and Haruhi all cuddly in bed, really close (closer than anyone else in the room would be comfortable with), with the red-faced girl in the middle.

“Eh…”, the embarrassed maid managed to say. “I’ll… I’ll leave you alone now… Yes, I’m going.” And then she literally ran away, closing the room’s door behind. Haruhi, Hikaru and Kaoru looked at each other before exploding in laughter at the absurd situation. Kaoru mentally made a note to give the maid a generous tip before they left this afternoon.

“I guess it’s time to eat, right?”, said Haruhi when her breathing slowed down.

They helped her down the bed and put her between them, as usual, before pulling the cart closer. Without warning Kaoru grabbed Haruhi in for a tight hug, which Hikaru joined, making a successful Haruhi sandwich. They laughed again softly, just being silly and happy, letting the joy of finally being together flow through their bodies.

But there was still an important question: What would they say to the rest of the Host Club?

Well, we’ll leave that for another moment.

BACK TO THE ARCHIVE

#ouran high school host club #ohshc #hitachiin brothers #hikaru hitachiin #hitachiin twins #hikaru x haruhi #hikaru x kaoru #kaoru x haruhi #kaoru hitachiin #haruhi fujioka #hikaharukao #ot3 #polyamory #polyamourus pride #ouran fanfiction #gil writes #fanfic #fanfiction #writeblr

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lastsonlost · 4 years

Text

Oh my God Elon said something we don't agree with. God I hope Apple and Starbucks disagrees with you too.

Owning a Tesla, the luxurious electric car, is a major liberal status symbol. It signals nothing more than good taste — the perfect balance of wealth with care for fossil fuels. But the man behind the brand is crafting a very different persona online that may now prove to be a challenge for his fans.

Elon Musk, the bombastic head of Tesla and SpaceX, exhorted his 34 million Twitter followers on Sunday to “take the red pill.” The comment was quickly embraced by his followers, including Ivanka Trump, President Trump’s elder daughter, who announced that she had taken the pill already.

The exchange referred to a scene from “The Matrix,” the 1999 science fiction action film. But the meaning of “red pill,” and the idea of taking it, have since percolated in online forums and become a deeply political metaphor. And with Mr. Musk and Ms. Trump, the phrase is now lodged more fully into the mainstream.

So Tesla owners are having to grapple with a car that carries a few new connotations.

“Honestly, Musk is becoming a liability and the Tesla board needs to seriously consider ousting him,” wrote Markos Moulitsas, author of “The Resistance Handbook: 45 Ways to Fight Trump.” “And I say that as a proud owner of a Tesla and a SpaceX fanatic who truly appreciates what he’s built.”

So what is the red pill?

[ I hope your fuckings Tesla explodes. You don't have to be in its but you should be forced to walk everywhere.]

In “The Matrix,” the movie’s hero, Neo, played by Keanu Reeves, is given the option to take a pill that lets him see the truth.

The world he thinks is real turns out to be an entertaining lie; his body is actually trapped in a farm where people are being used as human batteries. Taking the blue pill would let him return to living in the ignorant but blissful lie, while taking the red pill would launch him into an arduous journey through a brutal but fulfilling reality.

The idea of taking the red pill later grew to mean waking up to society’s grand lies. It was embraced by the right, especially by members of its youngest cohort who organized and spent their time in online forums like Reddit and 4chan.

The truth to be woken up to varied, but it ended up usually being about gender. To be red-pilled meant you discovered that feminism was a scam that ruined the lives of boys and girls. In this view, for a male to refuse the red pill was to be weak.

Red Pill forums were often filled with deeply misogynistic and often racist diatribes. The more extreme elements splintered into groups like involuntary celibates (“incels”) or male separatists (Men Going Their Own Way, or MGTOWs). Conferences like the 21 Convention and its sister convention, Make Women Great Again, sprang up to gather red-pilled men. Being red-pilled became a sort of umbrella term for all of it.

As these conversations seeped into the mainstream, pulled along by a host of other internet language from message boards to establishment Republican conversations on sites like Breitbart, the meaning broadened and got watered down. To be red-pilled can now mean being broadly skeptical of experts, to be distrustful of the mainstream press or to see hypocrisy in social liberalism.

What’s going on with Elon Musk?

Mr. Musk has been pretty wild online for years now, which has made him a major internet celebrity with devoted fans who call themselves Musketeers. There are fan pages like Musk Memes with nearly 100,000 followers, and a Reddit page with 200,000 members in constant, extremely active conversation.

Most recently, Mr. Musk has been a prominent skeptic online of the coronavirus, calling the response to it a “panic” and “dumb” and wrongly predicting close to zero new cases by the end of April. As of Tuesday, there were more than 90,000 deaths from the virus and more than 1.5 million cases in the United States alone.

The night before Tesla’s earnings were released last month, Mr. Musk tweeted an anti-lockdown rallying cry: “FREE AMERICA NOW.” He had a showdown with local lawmakers, threatening to move Tesla headquarters out of California and deciding to reopen a Tesla factory in Fremont, Calif., despite the local county’s restrictions to prevent the virus from spreading.

When State Assemblywoman Lorena Gonzalez objected on May 9 with an obscene tweet, Mr. Musk responded, “Message received.”

Defending his reopening of the Tesla factory, Mr. Musk wrote on Twitter that he would be on the factory floor and offered himself up to authorities. “I will be on the line with everyone else,” he posted on May 11. “If anyone is arrested, I ask that it only be me.”

This month, he and his girlfriend, Claire Boucher, the musician known as Grimes, had a child and named him X Æ A-12. And Mr. Musk announced that Tesla shares were too high and that he was selling almost all his possessions to the point of owning no house.

“We have a phrase, it’s E.M.M. — Elon Moves Markets,” said Bill Selesky, an analyst at Argus Research who tracks how Mr. Musk’s messages impact Tesla’s stock price. “People want to listen to him no matter what he says. He tends to be thought of as a great visionary.”

Mr. Selesky said even Mr. Musk’s detractors parsed every tweet and utterance. “Plus, if you have a Tesla, nobody can ever complain about you because you’re good for society,” he added.

This leads back to Mr. Musk’s message on Sunday, telling his followers to take the red pill.

Do ‘The Matrix’ creators like this?

No. Lilly Wachowski, a “Matrix” co-creator, told Mr. Musk and Ms. Trump in colorful language on Twitter that they could take a hike.

Is ‘red pill’ a Silicon Valley thing?

To some extent.

There has long been a strain of men’s rights activism in Silicon Valley, exemplified by James Damore, a former Google engineer who was fired after writing a memo arguing that the reason there are fewer female engineers is biological differences rather than discrimination.

Mr. Damore became a folk hero for a simmering movement in the technology industry of people who thought the efforts toward 50/50 representation at tech companies were absurd. Cassie Jaye, who calls herself a former feminist, made a 2016 documentary about the Red Pill community and said it had flourished in the tech world.

But the more common phrase in Silicon Valley to signal contrarian thinking is “narrative violation,” which is often used to describe an event that cuts against the mainstream media’s consensus on a topic. The idea is that there is a story being told about the world and how it works, but that the story is too simplistic to be entirely true and an event occasionally pops up to remind people of that.

Why does any of this matter?

Few products today are as deeply entwined with a person’s brand as Tesla is with Mr. Musk, and so his comments can feel personal for Tesla drivers.

“As a Tesla owner, a 47-year-old male recovering from Covid-19, and someone very concerned simultaneously about the environment, the economy, my kids’ and my parents’ future, this ain’t great,” said Jeff Guilfoyle, a product manager at FireEye in San Diego. “This disease is no joke, and the long-term health impacts are unknown for survivors.”

Many have implored Mr. Musk online to stop.

Raja Sohail Abbas, the chief executive of an outpatient psychiatric clinic in Allentown, Pa., wrote: “I am a Tesla owner and love the company. You have to stop being an idiot about this.”

“Tesla owner and Fan here, but this was a disappointing tweet despite the frustrations of and holdups,” added Alex Goodchild, a D.J. in Brooklyn. “Words are weapons especially when used during situations like the one we’re currently experiencing. You sound just like Trump in this tweet.”

The debate has riven the Tesla community.

“The last two months, there’s been this polarization in the Elon Musk fan club,” said Paula Timothy-Mellon, a technology consultant who moderates that LinkedIn-based fan club, which has 22,000 members. “There are those who are believers in these California guidelines and there are those in favor of his push to re-open Tesla.”

Many have implored Mr. Musk online to stop.

Raja Sohail Abbas, the chief executive of an outpatient psychiatric clinic in Allentown, Pa., wrote: “I am a Tesla owner and love the company. You have to stop being an idiot about this.”

The debate has riven the Tesla community.

Driving a Tesla often carries great symbolism for the owner (and observers).

“If you own a Tesla, you feel you are directly connected to Elon Musk and people think that Tesla owners are directly connected to the politics of the C.E.O.,” said Sam Kelly, a Tesla owner and investor based in Spain who posts under the name SamTalksTesla.

He added that he did not think the red pill comment meant any big new political awakening from Mr. Musk.

Asked to explain his thinking, Mr. Musk pasted an image of the Urban Dictionary definition of red pill in an email. It read:

“‘Red pill’ has become a popular phrase among cyberculture and signifies a free-thinking attitude, and a waking up from a ‘normal’ life of sloth and ignorance. Red pills prefer the truth, no matter how gritty and painful it may be.”

Seriously get a refund, buy a prius and

GET THE FUCKS OVER IT!

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shikagemaru · 3 years

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Been having an identity crisis recently. There's It a whole lot of things adding up to that. Call it a rant and ignore it if you want. There's only like 3 of you guys anyway.

I would put a readmore here if I knew how to do that on mobile (thanks for sucking, only social media app I feel at all comfortable with)

•It really doesn't help that the past 7 years of my life have been completely stagnant. Since I haven't been able to work my wife and I have had basically no freedom of our own.

•2 years ago I was put in jail because a pair of psychopaths decided to go from 70 to 0 on the highway in front of us, and get out to try attacking us. I tried backing up to go around but obviously the car behind me was too close and the highway was at speed in the right lane. So I had to go around on the grass while these 2 crazy assholes were approaching while shouting threats. One was coming for my wife's window. So I did what I had to and bumped one of them. He wouldn't move and our safety was more important than him being hurt a little. There was a high speed chase through our community, and while we're on the phone with the police these two are trying to force us off the road. The cops even see one of them hanging out the window shouting threats at us. We pull into a mcdonalds parking lot and after talking to them for a bit the cops arrest me because he said I "ran him over" on purpose. He was so uninjured that he refused medical care at the scene, but he kept telling people I ran him over. They were also both arrested btw. I was held without food or mpving air for over 13 hours and I have a history of heat stroke and hypoglycemia (it's bot exactly that, but it's like living outside of a big city and tellinf people you're from there instead of the local podunk you actually live in). Long story short it was torturous, and then I got put in actual jail. They didn't care that I have a long list of disabilities. When I was released I had to wear an anklr monitor while taking weekly drug tests. The numbers on the drug test kept reading that I was using weed even though I wasn't. It was insanely stressful as the numbers didn't change from one week to another. My fear was that because I was rapidly losing weight from stress that the thc being held onto in the fat was being detected. NOPE. turns out one of my DAILY meds was testing false positive. "Shouldn't they know about the false positive drug and account for it?" Youd think. But when they scanned my medication bottles that one came out blurred and they never entered it into their system. In case there are any lingering feelings that I was guilty, the court case more than handled that. The prosecutor was the kind of scumbag that, before my trial, tried prosecuting this guy's mother-in-law for assaulting him when she tried taking her grandkid out of his arms because he was using the baby to shield himself when the family confronted him about having a fake medical license and it ruining all their lives. It turns out I was put through hell and all he was seeking was "anger management counciling" because he believed that I, the guy protecting his wife, had road rage issues. One listen to the 911 calls would have straightened thst up. My lawyer kicked his ass just a little more than I did on the stand. Long story concluded, thanks for the ptsd. The nightmares have been lovely. So is panicking whenever a door closes kinda loud.

•Last year I was able to self diagnose myself with autism. For those who don't know, the vast majority of autistic people self diagnose, largely due to "experts" on average not being well educated on what autism is outside of the stereotypical cases. Most women aren't diagnosed until adults. Most "high functioning" (which is an awful description when you lesrn that it was created by a literal nazi to separate autistic people into "kill these ones" and "don't kill these ones" categories) people aren't diagnosed until adulthood. And by then actually getting the diagnosis is a challenge. And frequently it involves exercising privelege to get the right people involved.

So knowing what I know now a lot of my life suddenly makes sense. People accusing me of being manipulative when I literally don't know what it is that makes them think that? Severe miscommunications? Obsessing over specific topics to the point where people want to avoid me? Always being "the weird one" and as a result being a social outcast from day 1? Despite being considered very intelligent, I've been super easily manipulated by people my whole life. I can barely ever tell a person no, even if I know I should. Hell. There have been entire relationships I've had with people where I thought we were friends and they didn't think the same thing. Learning who or even how to trust becomes a challenge.

Yeah, it all makes sense now. I want to say "i don't know how they didn't see it", but I do. The 90s was shit for mental health. Since they knew I had tourettes (thanks for that, universe) and adhd, my obsessive tendencies were labeled ocd. Actual adult relationships have gone entirely to shit because of miscommunication. People seem to think I mean one thing when I mean another entirely. People think I'm angry when I'm not. I've basically been told never to be passionate about a topic.

How does a person handle that? It doesn't unfuck relationships with people. Once someone thinks you're lying and manipulating that's it. Nothing you can ever say will ever dissuade them. It doesn't matter that they were the ones that misunderstood. Somehow it becomes the fault of the autistic person. And good luck if you're ever autistic and have a panic attack. So I'm trying not to care about that. It's hard. It's especially hard knowing that things didn't have to, and may not have gone the way they did if i had known about it earlier. I wish I could rebuild certsin relationships. My wife and I used to fight, but since we realized that both of us have these triggers because we're both autistic, we resolve almost every misunderstanding like a walk in the park. But that doesn't work with people you haven't spoken to in years. Even if a lot of it was frankly their fault.

•And the latest fuckery? I have no idea what gender I am. If I had the power to shapeshift I'd probably change on a daily or hourly basis. I had an alt account years ago where I posted fanfiction. Some people in the community assumed they knew my gender and pronouned me as such in the comments. That was the first time I had ever experienced gender euphoria. I was....upset, when someone corrected them. Would have been nice if they asked me first. I enjoyed the confusion quite a lot actually. And since I have a terrible time coming up with names for things (my screen name is from 20 years ago and I never figured out a new one) so I don't know where I would start building up a new persona. And for what? To get the rush of people not knowing which pronouns to use? I hate it. I want it. I don't know if I can ever come out as trans. People think trans means m2f and f2m, and it doesn't really matter to the public consciousness that there's more to it than that. I want to scream at people that I'm trans, but i don't know what I even want my body to look like. If I woke up tomorrow and I was suddenly transformed would I be happy? I have no idea. No? Yes?

I don't know who I am or how to even identify. I'm a disabled, autistic, lgbtq ethnic minority with no financial freedom, and my 40s are approaching. Life is a challenge. Sometimes I wish I could just Danny Phantom it up. And by sometimes I mean daily.

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