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#it’s that they don’t even recognize what is and isn’t misogyny anymore

hollyhomburg · 3 years

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Before I Leave You (Sneak Peak)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: Someone always has to leave first; They just didn’t expect Yoongi to come back with a new omega (who's clearly been through some shit).

Pairing: Beta! Yoongi, Omega! Reader, Omega! Jungkook, Omega! Seokjin, Alpha! Namjoon, Alpha! Hoseok, Alpha! Taehyung, Alpha! Jimin,

Tags: Polyamory, groupsex, sexual and non-sexual Dom/sub undertones, heat sex, praise kink, brief humiliation, Spanking, knotting, breeding kink, emotional abuse, physical abuse, forced mating marks, graphic murder scenes, negative self-talk, self-esteem issues, non-verbal characters, abandonment, PTSD, hurt/comfort, gluttonous fluff, agoraphobia, implied/referenced self-harm, suicidal thoughts and brief desperate suicide attempt, unreliable narrators. Gender dysphoria, transgender characters, internalized homophobia, internalized transphobia, internalized misogyny, unintended outings, epilepsy,

W/c: 100k+ (87k completed so far)

A/n: long time no see~ this is what I’ve been working on for the last few months! I hope everyone will like it. Updates will be once a week on fridays or saturdays at 5pm EST. This will also be cross posted on Archive of our own.

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“You shouldn’t be out here- you’ll get cold.”

Your hands play on the bannister. In the fountain, something trickles though it’s not full. It’s too early in spring and the flowers in the garden are reluctant to burst through the ground for fear of frost. Yoongi wonders how you’re not shivering. “It’s not the 1800’s Yoongi- people don’t die just from being cold” your revealing dress is probably something that your husband chose for you. it makes Yoongi’s blood boil.

You look a little bit better tonight, though Yoongi can't tell if the color in your face is actually real or from the thick layer of makeup that hides the bruises. The haze in your eyes, like you’re dissociating from everything, isn’t there anymore. Tonight, You’ve got a clarity that Yoongi savors. The scar is healing well, pink and hardly notable under the line of your jaw. Yoongi wouldn’t know it was there if he wasn’t looking for it.

Yoongi searches your face. “You misunderstand me, I said that I don’t want you to be cold, but maybe if you caught a cold- I could help you get better.”

He knows his words don’t make sense- but still you recognize what he wants to say but can’t. I could love you, I could make it better, I could care for you and only treat you with the gentleness you deserve. But Yoongi doesn’t say any of that- no- he only leans forward and offers his hands. “One dance? Before I take you home?”

Yoongi will drive you away from here- will take you and go to some gritty fast food place and get you full of however many calories your husband has made you skip. And he’ll spend the whole drive thinking about leaning across the console to kiss you. He could do it- quick. You’re not wearing lipstick and no one would know. Maybe he can’t help you yet- so starved of love that you look like a ghost. But tonight, he can surely make sure your stomach and your heart is full with the careful care that Yoongi knows he’s good at giving.

You keep Yoongi at an arm's length as he leads you in the waltz, day dreaming of a hypothetical illness, some sickness that can be fixed by a few days rest and some warm soup that Yoongi could provide. The two of you pulled together in a bed however big or small- you wouldn’t mind as long as you got to be this close. His hand on your forehead crooning, “you’ve got a fever lovely.”

It’s a beautiful day dream, but not better than reality as he pulls you in tighter against him in your skimpy gown. It’s only to keep you warm- he justifies. And you melt into his hold. His hands are wide, warm, and better than any jacket as they cup your sides and the small of your back. You stumble on the uneven cobblestones of the garden and Yoongi heaves you up so that you’re balanced on his toes.

He spins you, going faster in the practices steps, making you giggle- a sound that he’s never heard from you and wants to hear again and again. You slow to a more gentle pace, Swaying softly from side to side. You rest your whole body against him and Yoongi holds you up.

For the first time he can smell your real scent, you smell sweet and bready, like a freshly baked cake, something warm inside on a day that the rain pours outside. You smell like cozy lazy Sundays and cupcakes. Yoongi wants to bury his face in your neck but won’t without asking.

He wonders if you like his scent just as much as he likes yours.

Before he can ask, you pipe up. “You just had to take all the good didn’t you?” its not said bitterly, but musing. Out of two brothers, why would one have so much more softness than the other? One gentle and kind while the other is bloodthirsty and violently selfish. Why did you have to choose wrong?

“What would it be like Yoongi? If you took me away from here what would it be like?” you’re crying, barely daring to utter the words. The two of you both know from experience that tempting fate never ends well but you’ve never wanted anything so badly.

Yoongi struggles to hold onto your happy scent. You know how much wanting something you can’t have can hurt you. Reaching out like you’re prepared to grasp the future he’ll paint for you, holding onto the lapels of his coat as you cry. Yoongi just runs his hands up and down your back to comfort you through the longing.

Like this garden aches for rain, Yoongi aches to give, anything and everything, his heart on a platter if that’s what you wanted.

“We’d get takeout every few nights and play rock paper scissors to decide who gets to be the little spoon, we’d have a rule of no yelling in the house, I’d take you out to the ocean and make you s’mores whenever you wanted. You could steal my clothes and I’d never ever say a word about It.”

You laugh at that- somehow, Yoongi just knows that’s something you’d do. He’s known enough omegas, he knows that courting one means you voluntarily give up half of your sweatshirt collection. He keeps speaking softer, like to whisper his wishes out loud is like trying to hold onto a shooting star.

“And-” Yoongi takes a deep breath, tilting his face forward so that your foreheads are aligned. So close. This is the closest Yoongi has ever let himself get to you. “-I’d love you until we’d both had our last breath. I’d leave you sticky notes on the refrigerator telling you that I love you every time I had to leave. I’d never- ever let you be cold. And I’d show you my pack”

Yoongi can feel you swallow thickly at his promises- and he hopes- hopes more than anything else that they’re not empty ones. You always forget that he has someone else- that there are several someone-else’s who have Yoongi’s attention the way you do. He is the moon and you’re just something he orbits around. There are other celestial objects caught in his orbit. “What are they like? What’s it like to have a pack?”

Yoongi tries not to let himself get misty eyed, “it’s everything, it’s love and having everyone there all around you but it’s also so much fun, you’re never alone- you always have someone to be around and it’s not even- it doesn’t even feel tiring. Even when you want to sleep you’d rather stay up with them.” Yoongi slides his finger underneath one of the straps of your dress, playing with it. “Telling you what they’re like- well- that would take me hours”

Your laugh is pretty, and it slips through yoongi’s fingers like smoke “That sounds beautiful.” Yoongi holds you like you might be a piece of that- a piece of his pack that he hadn’t known he’d been missing. That's probably why your next words hit him so hard.

“I wish I could have seen it. Get back to them safe alright? Do me a favor and love them like you would have loved me.”

*Part 1 Coming Friday April 9th @ 5pm EST*

#bts fanfic #bts mafia au #bts omegaverse au #bts polyamory au #bts x reader #bts poly au #bts werewolf fic #bts fluff #bts angst #bts hurt/comfort #min yoongi fic #min yoongi x reader #yoongi x reader #min yoongi #omega! reader #bts a/b/o au

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narumi-gens · 3 years

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Okay but would Naoya have a secret breeding kink when blue ball queen was dirty talking him about “filling her up” or would he just be infuriated 👁 👄 👁

note: even a broken computer isn't enough to keep me from digging in the trash 😣 warnings: smut, impreg kink, misogyny (naoya, duh) words: 1.7k (because I’m the trash queen) related drabbles

As Naoya watches you underneath him, practically folded in half from the way he's pushing your knees to your chest with his hands on the backs of your thighs, he finds himself angrier than usual.

But for once, he can't blame it on you despite how much he wants to. He can't blame it on your disrespectful mouth that never shuts up or your inability to recognize him as your better.

No, he's angry at himself. Because instead of focusing on the way your tits bounce with every brutal thrust or how your fingers are furiously rubbing at your swollen clit or the string of moans escaping you, all he can pay attention to is your stomach.

Or more precisely, all he can pay attention to is the thought of what it would look like if he didn't pull out like he usually does.

The last thing he wants is for you to end up pregnant with his kid. He doesn't need any bastard kids running around, especially not ones that would tie him to you for the rest of his life.

But the thought pumping you so full of his cum that your pussy is overflowing is too tempting for him to ignore. He imagines your stomach swelling, your tits getting big, your body changing like nature intended because of him.

In spite of himself, he finds his hips pounding into your ass even harder as his grip on your thighs tightens.

He wants to be the one to show you that all you're good for besides fucking is getting pregnant and having kids. He wants to force you to accept that you are truly the weaker sex by design. He’ll make you see that any notions you have about "self-worth" and "agency" are nothing more than misconceptions.

He’ll turn you from a foul-mouthed, ill-tempered, disrespectful jujutsu sorcerer into a wife and mother who bows her head when she talks to him and knows her place.

The thought of breaking you in is so tantalizing that it almost has him coming on the spot.

"Gonna show ya," he pants, his eyes squeezing shut as his mind paints the image of you so fucking big with his kid on the backs of his eyelids. "Ya ain't good fer anything else."

"Shut up," you're quick to reply between moans, but it only urges him on. You won't be so mouthy when you're taking care of his kids, when you're cleaning up after them, when you're breastfeeding them.

He lets out a low groan as he pictures how big your tits will get when they’re full of milk for his kid. It's enough to push him over the edge and before he knows what he's doing, his burying himself as deep as he can inside of you and coming with an almost animalistic growl.

His hips give a few jerks as he fills you with his cum, his hold now so tight on your thighs that finger-shaped bruises are a guarantee. His shoulders rise and fall rapidly as tries to catch his breath.

When he lets his cock slip from you, he can't tear his eyes away from the way his cum slowly leaks out of your messy cunt and trails down the crack of your ass. He continues to hold you in place for a few moments longer before collapsing onto his back beside you in bed with a self-satisfied smirk on his lips.

He runs a hand through his sweaty hair, already reflecting back on how that may have been the hardest he's ever come before. He pointedly ignores the fact that imagining you pregnant with his kid was the cause.

But while he's busy luxuriating in the aftermath of his orgasm, he's completely ignorant to the storm brewing beside him.

"You fucking came inside me!" you shout, sitting up in bed and hitting him hard in the face with the pillow that you had been using.

He recovers quickly and grabs it from you so that he can place it behind his own head with a smirk.

"Yeah? And?" he asks, his tone bored. He watches you from the corner of his eye as you angrily get out of bed and pick a discarded shirt up from the floor that you slip over your head.

"You're so fucking lucky I'm on the pill," you hiss as you storm off to the bathroom, loudly slamming the door shut behind you.

"Good! That means I don't gotta keep pulling outta ya anymore!" he yells after you with a sadistic grin. He wonders what you're more upset over -- that he came inside of you or that you didn't get to come.

You're only gone for a few minutes. He hears the toilet flushing and the water running before the door opens and you come back into the bedroom.

"You're fucking useless," you mutter and he closes his eyes as he stretches with a loud yawn. "I should've just gone with my vibrator. It doesn't have a mouth and doesn't make a mess. And it also makes me come every time."

"That ain't my job," he scoffs, a truly amused smirk playing at his lips at the idea that he's here for your pleasure.

He cracks an eye open when he hears you sliding opening the door to the balcony just off your bedroom. He catches just a glimpse of you holding something in your arms before you disappear onto the balcony for a few moments. When you return, your arms are empty.

He watches you as you pick up his boxer briefs before slinging them at his face. His reflexes are quick enough that catching them before they hit him is an easy feat.

"Get the fuck out," you say without sparing him a second glance on your way out of the bedroom and he chuckles to himself. Frustrating you is almost as gratifying as sex.

His amusement persists even as he sits up and slides on his boxer briefs. But it doesn’t last much longer because he’s quick to see that your bedroom floor is now empty, his clothes nowhere in sight.

He glances at the sliding glass door that’s still open and his eyes widen when he suddenly remembers that you had carried something onto the balcony, only to come back without it.

No.

You couldn’t possibly have.

No.

In the blink of an eye and with the speed he’s known for, he’s on your balcony and tightly gripping onto the railing as he searches the mostly-empty street below. When he sees his shirt, kimono, and hakama scattered on the sidewalk, pure rage explodes in his gut.

“Fucking BITCH!” he yells with no care for your neighbors or the late hour.

He’s moving so quickly that in the back of his mind he wonders if it’s the fastest he’s ever been. One moment he’s on your balcony and a millisecond later, he has you pinned on your back on the couch where you were sitting.

He straddles your hips as he wraps a hand around your throat, his grip growing tighter when he sees how your eyes are dancing with mirth.

“You already up for another round?” you ask, a slight wheeze to your voice from how hard he’s squeezing your throat. His fury is so all-consuming that he doesn’t even notice the way his cock twitches.

“You fucking bitch,” he seethes. “I’m going to fucking kill you.”

You raise an eyebrow at how his anger actually has his Kansai accent easing, like his ire is great enough that it’s actually able to override any pronunciations and verbal ticks.

“Well, before you do that, you might wanna go get your clothes,” you point out, sounding almost bored. “The bars are getting ready to close and all it takes is one person who can’t hold their alcohol before they’re throwing it all up.”

He wants to argue with you, call you a bitch some more, and punish you for thinking you have the right to talk to him like this and treat him this way. But he also knows you’re right. He needs to recover his clothing or else all he’ll have to wear on his way home is a tight pair of boxer briefs.

“It shouldn’t be too hard to get them back for the world's fastest sorcerer," you mock with a rasp and he lets his hand close even tighter for a few moments, wanting you to think your life is truly in danger, before he releases you.

He’s gone before you even know what’s happening and he’s already halfway through getting dressed by the time you make it out onto the balcony to watch him struggle. He ignores the heat of your gaze on him, as well as the stares of the few passersby who stumble upon the bizarre scene playing out in the middle of the street.

“Oi! Zen’in-sama!” you shout down to him as ties his hakama. He refuses to acknowledge that he’s heard you, although how could not have with how loud your voice carries. It’s enough to catch the attention of everyone down below. The mocking tone is gone with your next words, your voice as cold as ice. “I know my cunt’s so sweet that it’s hard to resist, but the next time you come inside of me without permission, I’ll cut your balls off so that you can’t make that mistake again.”

He looks up at your balcony, but you’re already gone. He growls to himself, seething that despite everything, you’ve still somehow managed to not only end up with the last word, but also to have humiliated him.

Now that he’s no longer buried ball deep inside of you, he can think with a clearer head and even through his anger, there’s an irritating note of relief that you’re on the pill.

It’s already bad enough that he can’t seem to give up your pussy, but that’s at least a habit he hopes to one day break. A kid would keep you in his life permanently.

A chill runs down his spine at the idea, disgust curling in his stomach. He tries to ignore the hint of arousal that lurks just underneath it.

#it's trash day #naoya zenin #naoya zenin x reader #zenin naoya #zenin naoya x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk #jjk spoilers #jjk hc #hate fuck!naoya

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wolf-queer-discourse · 3 years

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Adventures in Aphobia #1

So I was scrolling through Tumblr the other day (a regrettable mistake as always), and I had the great pleasure of seeing this joyous post.

*deep breath*

Not gonna lie, posts like this make me real pissed. Pissed because the person who posted this exists in a space where they feel comfortable enough to post this online. Pissed because these posts are so common and often face little backlash. And pissed because there’s nothing better than allosexuals condescendingly explaining to asexual people why they’re dirty attention whores who invent their own oppression. Ace people deserve to be defended against this horseshit. Young people see these posts, and it’s extremely damaging to have your identity be nothing more than fuel for people in discourse to mock you and demand you bled in order for them to notice your pain.

Anger aside, many people do not see why this post is wrong, so why is it? Let’s unpack this clusterfuck of bigotry:

“would love to see substantive evidence of systematic “aphobia” that isn’t actually just misogyny, toxic masculinity, or rpe culture.”

God damn, we are not mincing our words here XD. A few things: systematic in bold, which tells you if you do not make a blood sacrifice on the altar of queer pain you will not be taken seriously. Potential nitpick, but systemic and systematic are not the same thing. I believe systemic is the word they’re looking for. Systematic implies a lot more intentionality that can be hard to prove. Systemic merely means that systems, in their current state, do aphobic things, which they absolutely do.

“Aphobia” in quotes is absolutely rich. Not only will this person refuse to acknowledge systemic aphobia, which is only one type, but this poster casts clear doubt upon the mere concept of aphobia in and of itself. We love to see it.

There’s a lot to unpack here. The statement, as clearly condescending as intended, is sort of correct, though it doesn’t mean a whole lot. Systemic oppression is about the systems in a society (government, healthcare, etc) discriminating against people. Systemic oppression is not bigotry faced on a person-to-person level. In short, systematic oppression is something a person experiences in their overall life, while personal discrimination is experienced on a personal level by people who are not singularly in control of the systems. This post boils down the negative comments ace people face into being called “weird”, which is an understatement for sure, but calling a gay person weird isn’t systemic oppression either.

It’s still bad and discriminatory.

This is such a snotty way to dismiss aphobia as some mere, insignificant comment with no meaning as if it doesn’t reinforce society’s painful aphobic views in the same way casual homophobic comments reinforce heteronormativity and society’s hostility toward gay people.

Ace people face discrimination in healthcare, most notably, which is systemic discrimination, but the systemic discrimination of asexuals really ought to be its own post if I’m to nosedive into it. Even if ace people faced no systemic discrimination, it wouldn’t make this point anymore correct. Discrimination is a perfectly valid reason to feel disregarded by society, and often only ace people are denied the right to feel this way and are instead gaslit into admitting what they face is no big deal and they’re just making it up for attention.

The experience of being pressured to have sex when you’re allo vs ace is very different. The vast majority of allo people do not plan to be celibate their whole lives. Many ace people do not want to have sex, ever. “Waiting for sex” in much of western society and in Christianity is seen as pure and honorable. Yet being asexual and never wanting sex is seen as a deviant disorder and people are accused of robbing their partner of sex forever.

There’s really a specific flavor of sexual pressure that is unique to ace people. Sex being to “fix” someone or because they “just need to try it”.

In this respect, aphobic sexual pressure is better compared to that faced by gay people and lesbians. Lesbians especially often can face this same struggle, men pressuring them to have sex because they think lesbians just need to “try it” or to “fix them”. I can imagine this poster would have no issue acknowledging lesbophobia being the root of lesbians coerced into sex with men, yet she does not give ace people the same.

Imagine if someone said (and knowing our fucked world, someone probably has): “Lesbophobia doesn’t exist. It’s just misogyny. Straight women are coerced into sex too!”

It’d be pathetic bullshit. Toxic masculinity, misogyny and many other issues can all tangle into combined messes with other forms of bigotry. Lesbophobia is an experience that deserves to be recognized apart from misogyny, even if the two are linked. Please stop erasing ace people’s experiences with this when it’s not the same thing.

Honestly, though, this post, as trashy as it is, if anything, is perhaps, really asking: Is there any type of aphobic experience that’s inherently exclusive to ace people?

I still wager to go say, yes, yes there is, but I must make an important point first:

Most experiences of queer discrimination are not limited to queer people.

Homophobia and transphobia are both experienced by cishets in certain instances. Feminine straight men can be victims of homophobic harassment. This does not disprove the fact that it’s homophobia just because a straight man is the victim of it. A tall cis woman with broad shoulders and a lower voice may be the victim of transphobic remarks or comments. The basis of these comments is rooted in transphobia, however, so the fact that the victim is cis does not erase the transphobia.

People who argue that experiences ace people complain about can be experienced by allosexuals are not poking a legitimate hole in doing this. Certain experiences related to aphobia can and are experienced by allosexuals. If you do not acknowledge this, then homophobia and transphobia aren’t real because cishet people have sometimes experienced them.

Despite cishets sometimes experiencing queerphobia, most of us acknowledge that their experience of that bigotry, however unfortunate, is not the same as that experienced by actual queer people. It’d be quite homophobic for a feminine straight man to claim he knew just as much about the gay experience as an actual gay man. Similarly, when allosexual people relate experiences that were rooted in aphobia, it’s overstepping a line when they claim asexual discrimination isn’t real because they experienced elements of it too.

Cishet (cishet including allosexuals) people do not experience their doctors telling them their sexuality might be a disorder or caused by trauma. Allo queer people can experience this with their sexualities too.

“using sex appeal to sell products is misogyny, it is not engineered to gross sex-repulsed people, it is meant to objectify women.”

This is a strawman thinner than my last nerve. Uh, what? What ace people are you seeing that literally think sex appeal was engineered to gross-out sex-repulsed people?? I don’t think this is a core argument??

Yes, sex-repulsed ace people sometimes complain about sex appeal in media being uncomfortable. But that’s it. Every time an ace person shares a discomfort of theirs doesn’t mean it’s the entire basis of their oppression. For the love of God, let ace people discuss their experiences without being blow-torched over not being oppressed enough with an individual discomfort.

BONUS ROUND

(This was in the tags)

“Completely vilifies celibate individuals”

...no…? What…? Huh…?

The most charitable interpretation of this vague accusation is that the poster means celibate people face aphobia as well, due to not wanting to have sex. I have no idea how this “vilifies” anyone, but that aside, as said before: people who are not queer can face aphobia. Also worth noting that society treats celibate people way better than ace people, which is really another example of aphobia. Celibate people can be told they’re missing out (which could be at very least related to aphobic ideals), but they’re rarely called broken. Celibacy is seen more as a respected, controlled ideal in allo people, but when ace people want to do it, they’re just mentally ill.

Anyway, the post was aphobic trash, and it needs to be debunked more often. Mocking ace people online is not a good look anymore, guys. Don't be ugly.

#discourse #queer discourse #LGBT discourse #Adventures in Aphobia #ace discourse #asexual discourse #aphobia #ace discrimination #asexual #asexuality #LGBT #queer #ace #rant #aphobes have no shame but they should #imagine having a brain smoother than a banana peel

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homopsychology · 3 years

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Ways to help if your loved ones are caught up in gender ideology

I was reading about ex-conspiracy theorists and how they got out of their rabbit holes and so much of their experiences resonate with my time identifying as trans and being involved in gender ideology. I know a lot of women have loved ones caught up in the trans movement and I found this post on Reddit about helping Q Anon believers out of their ideas and a lot of it can apply to gender ideology. I’ve adapted the advice outlined in the post about conspiracy theorists to fit trans-identified people and others who are caught up in gender ideology.

1. Common negative emotions trans-identified people suffer from: Fear, Anger, Helplessness, Hopelessness, Frustration, Delusion. Yes, mostly what you see is pig headed arrogance, that's certainly present, but there is so much negative mental baggage that goes with getting involved in the trans community and taking on this identity. Trans people are constantly told that their life expectancy is 30 years old and that they are highly likely to face physical violence. Realize that behind the obsession, arrogance, and certainty is a lot of repressed fear and hurt. There’s also a lot of emotional problems and insecurities that lead people to identifying as trans, such as internalized misogyny or seeking attention and approval from peers.

2. Help them focus on the here and now that matters. Practicing mindfulness and connecting with oneself does help foster a healthier mindset and a better connection with the real world. Many people who are deeply involved in gender ideology are disconnected from their daily lives (hence our jokes about them being unhygienic), so encouraging them to focus on what’s right in front of them can help them regain their sense of self and control. Gender dysphoria (whether rapid-onset or not) also leads to sense of disconnection with one’s body. Helping them connect to themselves and the world can alleviate their distress and bring them closer to themselves.

3. Try not to get to engage with them too much on trans topics. If the trans person in your life starts going on about gender ideology, just politely reply and go straight back to whatever you were doing. This makes you a stable place for them if/when they move beyond gender ideology. This might be a trickier one to handle if you have a trans-identified person in your life who expects you to validate them. In that case, it might be easier to listen with compassion. I do think that remaining a place of stability will make it easier for your loved one to discard gender ideology because they know you will still be there for them.

4. Realize you likely can't argue the trans-identified person out of their beliefs. This is the hardest thing to admit. The trans community has created an Us/Them narrative of the world with trans people and their allies on one side, and then TERFs and transphobes on the other. People often build their lives, identities, and sense of self around identifying as trans. Being trans also provides a community that your trans person might hold dear. Attacking their beliefs head on will be met with excuses and rationalizations, but likely not honest introspection. My peak trans moment was brought on by tiny moments of doubt that built up over time, not by straight forward critique of my beliefs. The moment someone tried to discredit trans ideology, I would shut down and become defensive. However, don’t think that you challenging trans ideology in small ways isn’t helpful. Those challenges become little pockets of doubt that remain hidden until the person is comfortable confronting the inconsistencies of their views.

5. Explore their doubts. Maybe there is something that your trans-identified person doesn't understand, or doesn't make sense. What is it? Asking questions is not the same as confronting and if done well might have a chance to crack some of their ideas. This is a big way to break down belief in the trans movement. For the general ideology, asking about cases like Barbie Kardashian and Jonathan Yaniv can help. Bring up transracialism. Of course, also asking “what is a woman/man?” is useful. For trans-identified people, here is a thread on the detrans subreddit that discusses useful questions. I particularly liked “What does it mean to "feel like" a man or a woman? Do you think the other gender never has those feelings? If someone of the other gender had the same feelings, would it make them trans even if they were perfectly happy in their birth gender? If it wouldn't, why not?” “If you could change anything, but NOT your primary or secondary sex characteristics, what would you change?” and “If the whole world went genderblind, what would you change or explore?”

6. Love them, be there for them, but set boundaries. If nothing above works, you need to protect yourself, and manage the potential damage and fallout on the relationship. If it's taking a toll on you, you may need to make it clear that you just can't engage with them about this anymore.

7. Recognize and call out Thought Terminating Cliches. This is a phrase or sentence used to prevent the mind from scrutinizing its own beliefs. Common in religions and cults. Examples: Trans women are women. A woman is anyone who says they are a woman. Etc. These are everywhere in the trans movement.

I hope this helps in someway! Let me know if there's anything I should add or clarify. I know from my family and friends how emotionally exhausting it is to deal with a trans-identified person, so please take care of yourself. Best of luck to you!

#radfem #gender critical #radical feminism #terf #terf safe #radical feminist #terfs please interact #terfs do touch #terfs please touch #gender ideology

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lacrimosathedark · 3 years

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Hamilton Inaccuracies/Corrections (because why not?)

Okay so, I saw a post on reddit that was like, “what’s some inaccuracies in Hamilton off the top of your head?” and I got a whole bunch...and then I had to double check to make sure if I was right...and I’m pretty long-winded...and now I have this 5,000ish word monstrosity. And apparently you can only post 1000 characters at a time on reddit. Laaaaame. So here’s some Hamilton facts I’ve gathered in my brain. Since it was kinda off the top of my head despite being so long, it’s kinda vague in some places, so if anyone wants to expand on anything (or correct me if I oopsed somewhere) please do! Though nicely please.

Also I am also awful at citing things, but I know I learned some of this from @john-laurens and @ciceroprofacto so thank you.

LET’S BEGIN!

Act 1

Rachel Faucette was not a prostitute, but she was a “whore” in the sense that she did what she fucking wanted with her body. During her first marriage she may or may not have been sleeping around, but she refused to stay with John Lavien, her husband, anymore. So he had her arrested. And he could do that. Because patriarchy and theocracy. And she was essentially put in solitary confinement. You can see why she tried to leave, right? She tried to get their marriage annulled or get a divorce. I forget what the issue was but she couldn’t and eventually she just moved to another island where she met James Hamilton.

The intro song makes it seem like Alexander was an only child. He actually had an older brother, James Jr., but he kinda fucked off after their mother died, working and taking care of himself. They also had an older half-brother Peter Lavien, but I don’t think they really knew him other than as the son of their mother’s abusive ex who took everything from them when she died. John Lavien was able to do that because when Rachel was with James Hamilton, she had not been able to get legally divorced from him so she wasn’t really married to James Hamilton, so James Jr. and Alexander were illegitimate ie bastards. He was an asshole. I don't think Peter had anything against the Hamiltons, but I think he grew up to be a Loyalist so. He actually made some trouble in South Carolina for Henry Laurens, John's dad! But I think I read somewhere he also left money for Alex and James Jr. In his will, which is sweet.

This is more visual since it’s not specified in the song, but in the show, Hamilton’s cousin mimes hanging himself. Peter Lytton’s cause of death if I recall was inconclusive, but he was in his bed and there was a lot of blood. So, yeah, he didn’t hang himself.

Alexander did not punch the bursar. However he did return to Princeton later during the war and blew a canon through the school and apparently decapitated a painting of King George lololol. He was under orders, but yknow. Probably felt pretty good after he was rejected for accelerated courses. He wasn’t the only bastard rejected, though! Ben Franklin’s bastard son was too. The guy in charge of admissions, Witherspoon, hated bastards as a concept and Princeton was a very religious school at the time I believe.

It may have been the plan by Aaron and Esther Burr for Aaron Jr to graduate Princeton, but like, he couldn’t really be sure of that? He was like 2 years old when they died, and his older sister Sally was 4 I believe, maybe 5.

Hercules Mulligan met Alex in 1772. His older brother Hugh knew Alex’s old employer in St. Croix and helped him get to mainland America. Alex and Hercules lived together for a long while, and Hercules is actually who got him interested in the revolution.

John Laurens was in England in 1776. He wouldn’t meet Hamilton and Lafayette until he accepted his post as Washington’s aide-de-camp upon his return in August of 1777.

Lafayette couldn’t have met Hamilton before August 1777 because that’s when he met Washington, and he was appointed as a volunteer to the Continental Army only a week prior, and before that he had been in France. But Lafayette later declared their relationship to be like that of brothers, Alexander his closest connection in the states besides Washington.

Lafayette admired and absolutely adored Laurens and they were besties, but neither of them knew Mulligan. They may have met in passing, or heard about him from Hamilton, but nothing more.

“Lafayette” was actually a nickname based on his title of “Marquis de la Fayette”. In his autobiography, he wrote: “It’s not my fault I was baptized like a Spaniard, with the name of every conceivable saint who might offer me more protection in battle.” I’m glad he thought it was funny at least. His name is Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier, Marquis de la Fayette.

Hercules Mulligan is not known to fuck horses.

The Revolution had already sorta started. Actually, Hercules and Alexander had been part of local militias before 1776.

This is more of a miscommunication since the actors are close in age, though the lyrics try to get it across. There’s a reason Mulligan says he’s got the others “in loco parentis”. In 1776 Hamilton and Lafayette would have been 19, Laurens would have been 22, and Mulligan would have been 36.

I think we all know “Laurens, I like you a lot” does not cover the scope of their relationship but that’s rather self explanatory so unless someone asks I’ll leave it at that. And for other clarifications. But at the very least I’ll share this: Anyone who saw them knew they were like attached at the hip (without knowing how attached *winkwonk*) and you could almost always contact one through the other. Laurens was notoriously bad at answering letters, to Hamilton too (and Alex did bitch about it because he is insecure and needs love), but it became quickly known he got back to Hamilton fastest so people would be like “Tell Laurens I said hi!” or “Hey, I need to get these to Laurens, you send them to him.” Which is hilarious. I just imagine Alexander going, “Why me?”

While all of them are Revolutionaries, Laurens is the only one you could solidly call an abolitionist, and Mulligan’s even shaky on the manumission part. He was supposedly part of the Manumission Society Hamilton helped start, but Mulligan also personally owned slaves and was never known to have freed them (One helped him with spy shit. His name was Cato!). In fairness, Hamilton and Lafayette wholeheartedly agreed with Laurens, and Hamilton was the biggest supporter of his battalion plan, and both of them did try to continue working towards equality after the war, but it was never the top priority for either of them and their lives kinda went to hell, so it fell to the wayside. Lafayette actually did some nifty stuff worth looking at, and Hamilton might have tried to keep one of John Lauren’s freed men from Henry Laurens! But as slavery stuck around for a while, it clearly wasn’t anything significant.

Angelica would meet and befriend Thomas Jefferson in Europe, but she would never manage to convince him to put women in a sequel because he’s a huge misogynist and told her in multiple letters that politics isn’t for women and I think he deserves a shoe up his southern backside. Side note, it always bothered me that Lin played up the misogyny in the musical. I mean, yeah, all of them would be misogynists compared to us, but for their time, Hamilton wasn’t so bad. If there was anyone to play up misogyny with, it was Jefferson, because he would tell Angelica for years and years that politics could never make women happy, and that the women in France were foolish for trying etc.. Hamilton would actually discuss politics with Angelica frequently and openly. And there’s a proto-feminist in the cast that was never recognized—Aaron Burr! He respected Theodosia Sr. as an equal and she was his most valuable political ally, and he made sure Theodosia Jr. got the same education any boy of her time would have. He actually respected women to a decent degree. Not to say he wasn't as much of a ho as Hamilton cuz yeah that's accurate (but they were both disaster bisexuals more on Burr's sexuality later)

Farmer Refuted was an essay Hamilton wrote arguing against Samuel Seabury's posts. They weren't shouting in the public square(but Lin got the sass right. I love his face when Hamilton and Seabury are fighting over the podium). Seabury was also really really old, not young and cute like Thayne, hence the line about "mange". Blech.

General Montgomery didn’t take a bullet in the neck, it was a grapeshot from a canon in his head (and his thighs), but close enough I guess. Side note: Burr actually served a short interim on Washington’s staff, but only for like 10 days because they hated each other lolol.

Alexander didn’t bring Laurens, Mulligan, or Lafayette to Washington. Lafayette joined up with the Continental Army in 1777 and quickly convinced them he wasn’t like the other French nobles; he was a glory-seeking kid with a boner for America (for some reason???). Laurens was requested by Washington to join his military family and he arrived also in August 1777 just after Lafayette. Like previously stated, Mulligan was doing shit even before Hamilton did.

Alexander would not have been in charge of spy shit (though may have been somewhat involved). Washington had people like Mulligan for that, who actually saved Washington a few times. But also, the "King’s men who might let some things slide" was the tactic Mulligan used. He was actually very charming, and his wife was very high in British society and he was a skilled tailor, so they were thought of well among the redcoats, and he got a lot of information through chatting with his customers. He also could usually smooth-talk his way out of trouble. Actually, Mulligan blended in so well, when the war was over, people in the city wanted him out cuz they thought he was a Loyalist. So George fucking Washington paid him a visit and commissioned I think a coat from him, and that cleared that up. He got a LOT of business after that.

Alexander would not be Washington’s right hand man, or at least, not his only one if Lin was using that to mean aide-de-camp. In that case, Laurens would also be Washington’s right hand man, along with many men not named in the musical.

John Laurens may have been reliable with the ladies (comes with the territory of being hot, rich, and a perfect gentleman), but he most certainly didn’t want to be. His father noted, rather proudly at the time, that as a young teenager he expressed no interest in girls. John was also married by 1780, and at least Alexander knew. (he told John he'd found out in the well-known April 1779 letter. You know... “Cold in my professions...find me a wife...the length of my nose...” That one.) Because John apparently didn't tell people he was married. Laurens. Sweetheart. Get. Your. Shit. Together.

John also would not be at this ball. February 1779 to March 1780 he is fighting down south, and this ball was early 1780.

The tomcat thing may be half true. Martha Washington did supposedly name a cat Hamilton, but it was an affectionate thing. The slang tomcat meaning ho wasn’t a thing at that time, so it couldn’t be named to tease Alex for his promiscuity. I believe this was one of the many things John Adams made up to slander Hamilton.

Hamilton and Eliza had met before 1780. They had met once two years prior at a dinner her father had hosted. Also, Hamilton had been courting her friend Kitty Livingston, and his friend and fellow aide Tench Tilghman had been attempting to court Eliza, and they’d actually done at least one sort-of double date (which is adorable). So this shouldn’t have been the first time they’d seen each other. Could still be when they fell in love, though, since they started courting after this. Which is cute to think about.

Speaking of Tench and Eliza! I don't remember when this took place but Tilghman journaled it, he went out on something of a hike with a few ladies and they got to a cliff. Of course, he had to help the girls climb up. Except Eliza who started climbing by herself like a natural to the bewilderment and likely horror of the other ladies. Elizabeth Schuyler was a bamf okay?

Of course everyone knows by now, Angelica was married before Eliza. During the Winter’s Ball, she’d already eloped with Jack Carter aka John Barker Church and run away to Boston.

Their courtship was not that fast. Not like, weeks. More like months. Fun fact, Eliza is the only of the five (yes FIVE) Schuyler sisters who didn’t elope and actually got her parents permission! But here’s a heartbreaking fun fact: while Alex was courting Eliza, Laurens was taken prisoner and then on probation. He wasn’t allowed to leave the state of Pennsylvania. He was mentally in a very dark place. Alex kind of procrastinated telling Laurens about Eliza, didn’t say he was courting anyone until they were already engaged.

I can't leave this alone if I'm sad you have to be too. Alex was hella depressed during this time too. Of course he was a soldier so he couldn't see Eliza as much as he'd have liked. On top of that, he kept pushing for an exchange for John and kept getting rejected because they couldn't show preference for him. And then Laurens was sending him very few letters, of course, and the ones he did send were very depressed, even suicidal sounding. He had to work while dealing with that. He had to keep begging Eliza to write to him to be reassured that she still liked him.

No one could show up for Hamilton for the wedding. Some sources say fellow aide James McHenry showed up, but he’s the only one. Alexander even invited his deadbeat dad, offered to pay all his travel expenses and everything, guess how that turned out. So Eliza’s side of the hall was packed and his was empty. God, can you imagine how sad that is?

Another heartbreaking fun fact! John Laurens was out of probation and could have made it to the wedding, was invited (Hamilton, I kid you not, jokingly invited him to a threesome with his new wife in a letter: “I wish you were at liberty to transgress the bounds of Pensylvania. I would invite you after the fall to Albany to be witness to the final consummation.” (emphasis is original to Hamilton. As is the misspelling of Pennsylvania. Yes, seriously.)) and John did not go. Instead he went back to work trying to talk his way out of getting sent as an envoy to France and suggesting Alexander to take his place. You know. His boyfriend who just got married. Sure, he was right that Hamilton was better equipped for the job, but yknow. Another fun fact, one of the guys who voted for John to be the one to go to France was John’s ex-boyfriend Francis Kinloch. Who was a turncoat, and had been a royalist when he and Laurens split. How’s that for some twisty bullshit.

Sorry, this one isn’t about the musical, it’s a tangent, I just got excited about that quote. Both that style of innuendo and the misspelling of Pennsylvania are consistent in Hamilton’s writing. Listening to john-lauren’s podcast about the April 1779 letter can really help you understand how Hammy uses innuendo but also I just love listening to it it’s insightful and hilarious and I love John Laurens but y u do this and my heart hurts for Hamilton but he is also a ho but aNYWAY. As for Pensylvania...well, he kinda made that mistake on an important document. ...It’s The Constitution. He misspelled Pennsylvania on The Constitution. No big deal. Not like something that could haunt his legacy forever. Oh my god I’m so sorry.

Philip Schuyler did have sons. Five in fact. Two of them died pretty young though I think, considering there are three kids in a row named John Bradstreet Schuyler. The other two were named Philip Jeremiah and Rensselaer.

Laurens, Lafayette, and Mulligan were all married before Hamilton. Hercules Mulligan married Elizabeth Sanders in 1773. Lafayette married his beloved Adrienne in 1774. John Laurens was regretfully obliged to marry Martha Manning in 1776.

Sigh. Again with the misogyny. Anyway, I wanted to comment on the marriage as a loss of freedom. From what I can tell, Elizabeth helped Hercules with his spy work at home. John was literally fighting a war across the ocean from his wife, and probably having an illegal affair with Alexander (though to be fair to him, he was kind of running away from Martha because he didn't marry her for love, gosh, there are no winners here). Lafayette absolutely adored his wife but still was also fighting a war an ocean away, and had multiple affairs, at least one with his wife’s blessing. So yeah, losing your freedom with marriage? Bullshit.

Despite where it is in the musical and Eliza singing the beginning, Stay Alive is roughly about Valley Forge, which would be December of 1777 through June of 78. So before the ball and wedding. (Fun fact! A lot of people theorize Valley Forge as when Hamilton and Laurens’ relationship may have escalated into romantic and/or sexual territory. They may have had more privacy, as small temporary buildings were being made to better withstand the cold, and Hamilton was sick a lot during that time and did need tending a lot. West Indian boi did not like Northern winter.) But yeah, Congress being stupid and the army resorting to eating their horses sometimes and not being able to buy food and equipment? All true. It was a real bad winter.

Mulligan wouldn’t have to go back to New York, he never would have left. He remained there as a tailor and a spy throughout the war. He wouldn’t have been traveling with Washington.

Hamilton and Laurens didn't write essays so much as start working out John's battalion plan and writing letters trying to push for it.

This duel happened in 1778, so like. This timeline is so fucky.

Stay Alive makes it seem like Hamilton was the one who wanted to duel Lee, but it was 100% Laurens from the start. The off-Broadway version demonstrates it a bit better. Hamilton was Lauren's second to save his ass. Hamilton had a rough relationship with Washington, but Laurens admired him greatly and would have willingly defended his commander’s honor. John was a Good Boy who always bowed his head to his asshole father, even at first for his battalion plan, but John wouldn’t let even his father talk shit about Washington. Fun fact about this duel, Alex and John were late to the duel because they “got lost in the woods”. Oooookay. Suuuuuuure. And Baron von Steuben was straight. (Fact: Steuben was very gay and pretty much pushed out of Europe for it. And he actually also had challenged Lee! They talked things out before this.)

Aaron Burr was not Charles Lee’s second. His second was a Major Evan Edwards. Lin wanted a parallel with the final duel. To be fair, that was a really cool way to do it and I like it better that way.

Alexander Hamilton could NOT agree that duels are dumb and immature. He was in 10 duel challenges as a participant in his lifetime, 9 of which he was the challenger. One time he challenged two people at once. One time he challenged an entire politcal party apparently. No, I am not kidding. He had a bad day. And I think you know the one time he wasn’t the challenger.

Lee did not yield on the first shot, nor was Laurens satisfied. Lee was pretty much like, “It’s just a flesh wound!” and wanted to go another round and Laurens agreed, but Hamilton and Edwards managed to talk them down. Yes he was shot in the side. But that wasn’t all because Laurens absolutely roasted Lee at his court martial.

Lee: Were you ever in an action before?

Laurens: I have been in several actions; I did not call that an action, as there was no action previous to the retreat.

I love this man. So much. The sass of this man.

We don’t know if Washington was angry about the duel with Lee. We do know that Laurens, and probably Hamilton, had Christmas dinner with him two days later. When Hamilton left, it was because Washington had snapped over a misunderstanding (caused by Lafayette actually, and he really tried to make it better because Lafayette is a sweetheart), and then continued to deny Hamilton the command he requested, and he resigned. It was entirely unrelated to the duel and Laurens. However, the daddy issues are real.

I don’t know if Lafayette went to France for more funds and came back with more guns, but Laurens certainly did! Ben Franklin told him to chill, but he actually got super impatient and ended up supposedly disrespecting and maybe kinda threatening the court, demanding what he needed, and walking out. They were were kind of shocked and impressed into giving more than had been requested. Any existing deities bless John Laurens. I love him.

Lafayette actually nominated his own aide to lead the charge and Hamilton appealed for himself and Washington finally gave in to Hamilton.

Laurens was not in South Carolina. When he finally got back from France, he was sent to Yorktown. He actually was commanding the group Alexander led. (Power couple lol) He also helped with negotiations after the battle. Also, supposedly making the British play ‘The World Turned Upside Down’ on their way out was Laurens’ idea because boy is made of sass and spite.

Henry Laurens would not have sent a letter to Hamilton about John’s death. Even if he would have, he couldn’t. At that time, he’d been locked up in the Tower of London as a prisoner. We have no idea when or how Alexander found out, or who might have told him. We know he wrote to Nathanael Greene on October 25 and Lafayette on November 3 (literally 2 months after Laurens' death), and the mentions of Laurens were very short. It’s thought that he really couldn’t talk about Laurens. People have compared it to the stories of how Benjamin Tallmadge apparently couldn’t hear Nathan Hale’s name without crying.

After Yorktown Alexander resigned and John went down south to flush British troops out of the southern states. His group was ambushed at Combahee River and he decided to charge instead of wait for backup and he died. Many people think it was a combination of his usual recklessness, suicidality, and glory-seeking mixed with a desperation with the war coming to an end. It was such a small skirmish. He deserved better. He left his daughter, Frances, whom he had never met, orphaned, as her mother had died months earlier from sickness. She was adopted by John’s oldest younger sister, also coincidentally Martha Laurens (though married was Martha Laurens Ramsay).

The Levi Weeks case was years later than that, in 1800, though it was alongside Burr. Hamilton actually lost his first trial as a defense lawyer and was not with Burr.

The whole conversation where Hamilton proposes Burr help him write the Federalist Papers is fake. Lin made that up entirely.

John Church’s wealth kinda...varies. He was a gambler. At first, he was actually in quite a bit of debt. He did make it big eventually and he and Angelica moved to Europe. He really didn’t seem to be a lot of fun to most people, but Angelica eloped with him. She chose him against her father’s wishes. I don’t get why Lin kept writing lines saying she didn’t love him, at least at first. He also does this in the cut song Congratulations where she says “I languished in a loveless marriage” bish you eloped wat She also lived as a socialite and was adored by anyone who met her apparently, so like???? da fuq Lin. Didja really do Laurens dirty for these lies or at the very least uncertanties? Could you not prop up that romance without making her say she hates her husband?

Act 2

More of a personality miscommunication. Irl Thomas Jefferson was shy, quiet, and hypersensitive, nothing like how Daveed plays him. If you knew a guy like the real Jefferson in real life you might be endeared to him out of pity or because he seems sweet, but in the short time of a musical that would immediately be read as cold and unlikable. So the best way to portray “this guy is a likable asshole” is to make him loud and made of sass which is what Daveed does magnificently. So, not at all accurate to real Jefferson, but gets the concept of him across.

Thomas was not off getting high with the French. Probably. He was making negotiations for the Revolution. And abusing Sally Hemings (his, at the time, 14 year old slave, who was also his sister-in-law, and 30 years his junior, and was brought along to entertain his daughter). And actually probably chatting up with Angelica!

By the time Philip was 9, he had two sisters, Angelica (7) and his foster/adopted sister Frances Antill (6), but he also had two brothers already, Alexander Jr. (5) and James Alexander (3), with maybe another one on the way since William Stephen would be born next year.

The whole comma thing is backwards. It was Angelica who made the initial mistake. Hamilton pointedly and flirtatiously teased her about it before closing it with “Adieu ma chere, soeur” French for “Goodbye my dear, sister”. So it’s more playful and less lovey dovey in context, so the tone is all wrong. It’s not romantic, it’s teasing and snarky.

Say No To This feels like it’s over quick. The affair lasted a year, not just the summer Eliza was away.

Clermont Street wasn’t renamed until many years later.

I don’t know that Alex has always considered Burr a friend. Irl they weren’t as close, and Hamilton was keenly aware of how slimy Burr could be.

Lafayette was NOT fine. He was imprisoned a lot during the French Revolution, the poor man, and many members of his wife’s family were killed. HOWEVER! Hamilton was not just sitting by. Angelica and her husband did make an attempt to rescue Lafayette, and the Hamiltons fostered Lafayette’s son Georges Washington Lafayette (yes that was his actual name). So Hamilton also did not forget Lafayette.

Not all his defendants got acquitted, obviously. Stop being cocky, Ham.

People comment on how Jefferson whines about Hamilton’s fashion sense while literally dressed in violet velvet. The original plan was to have him in browns, but Daveed is just such a friggin star that they just had to give him something brighter and decided to go with a Prince-inspired look. Originally the browns were going to be representative of his supposed representation of farmers. Though note here: Jefferson’s agricultural representation is much the same as modern Republicans’ rural representation. More for show.

Actually, let's get political for a sec. I've done some research in my hyperfixation and in searches for Hamilton shiz I've ended up stumbling into far-right nonsense and I know how to recognize the degrees of nonsense from years of actually paying attention to it now because this is what I do apparently. Which is weird, right? Lin kinda portrays him like a lefty. Well, here's the thing. Any proud historically educated Republican will tell you that their roots are in the Federalist Party. Which is technically true. What they will neglect to mention is the flip between parties that happened when the Republicans decided to use southerners racism to their advantage in elections. Being subtly racist can get the racists and the non-racists on your side! Yeah, it's gross. Federalists are more like Democrats. The corporatists. They clearly care more about companies and Wall Street, but they put actual action into social progress on rare occasion. Democratic-Republicans are like Republicans, conservatives who don't want social change and rail against it and pretend they aren't for corporate interests while being just as bad as the other guys. But Republicans have a tendency to rewrite history to paint themselves as the good guys, or reclaim things that aren't theirs as their own. Just look at the Civil War! Or...literally just...America I guess. Yikes. But yeah, here's your warning. Don't just go looking at and trusting things labelled Federalist. It likely won't be friendly.

John Adams didn’t fire Hamilton, Hamilton left. Eventually. And this is not the only time this kind of verbal confrontation happens, and not the one that destroys the Federalist Party. That actually happens after the Reynolds Pamphlet. But John Adams hates Alexander Hamilton with the burning passion of a thousand suns and really kinda earns this.

I’m not sure if he specifically called Alex a Creole bastard but I wouldn’t be surprised, there were other similar racist and bastard-related insults. You know the tomcat thing mentioned above. He started the rumor of the affair with Angelica. He accused him of being a rake (male version of whore at the time). He also may have behind closed doors accused him of being a sodomite. His (probably gay) son Charles helped with that one, bringing back rumors from a dinner he had with Hamilton (who he was working for) and John Church because Church joked about Alex being fond of a guy. Adams probably thought working for Hamilton was what made his son gay and alcoholic (Charles was an alcoholic and may have died in part because of that; Hamilton was not an alcoholic, but he supposedly could not hold his drink. He was smol).

Jefferson, Madison, and Burr didn’t accuse Hamilton of speculation. It was James Monroe, Abraham Venable, and Frederick Muhlenberg. Lin wanted to keep consistent representation of the Democratic-Republican party. But anyway, the whole thing went to hell because Monroe sent the letters to Jefferson (or I’ve also heard Monroe gave them to Madison who sent them to Jefferson) who, the spiteful gangly fucker, started spreading rumors because fuck Hamilton, amirite? Hamilton challenged Monroe to a duel over that. And who stopped this duel? Aaron Burr. He gets to be the good guy now and then.

It wasn’t just total strangers that got Alex off the island. He was sponsored by his cousin Ann Lytton and his teacher Reverend Hugh Knox. Also, he was kind of expected to get an education and come back and help out the island...guess what he never did. Oops.

This one I may be wrong, but I’m pretty sure. I think Eliza was upstate with her family when the Reynolds Pamphlet was released, away from Alex. I also know she had recently given birth to their son, William Stephen. A lot of people think Alexander had been keeping that in mind. Eliza had had a miscarriage once before, when she was under a lot of stress and alone and with the kids and he had to be away (Whiskey Rebellion), so some people think he made sure she was surrounded by her family and waited until the child was born to drop this on her, and gave her distance from him if she needed it. At least he knew he fucked up, and he really did love her.

Those weren’t Alexander’s guns. They belonged to John Church.

It was quite some time between Philip’s challenge and the actual duel.

Another age miscommunication; Eacker was 27ish and Philip was 19 when the duel happened. There was a whole 8 years between them!

Eacker didn’t shoot early. Actually, both of them stood staring at each other for a really long time doing nothing. But Philip went to make a move and Eacker shot him.

Alex and Eliza had made up from the Reynolds Pamphlet bullshit before Philip died. When he passed, Eliza was already pregnant with the son they would also name Philip in honor of his older brother.

Hamilton wasn’t really the deciding factor in the election of 1800. But he did say that about Burr and it did help swing the vote somewhat. But also, this was before Philip died. Philip died in 1801.

If a vote is that close, you can’t win in a landslide??? That’s not how words work???? Mister Miranda????? You are a writer??????? Sir???????

Burr actually held a term as Jefferson’s Vice President.

The Burr vs Hamilton Duel was in 1804 and was actually about another election and other things Hamilton was saying about him. Burr was running to be governor of New York and lost but heard about Alexander telling people the things he listed Alexander saying in Your Obedient Servant.

Thayne should not have played Alexander’s doctor. Sydney should have played Alexander’s doctor. Do you know why? Philip and Alexander had the same doctor when they died. Alexander took that doctor with him to the duel. His name was David Hosack.

While there’s evidence to suggest Burr experienced immediate regret (he stepped forward as if wanting to see if Hamilton was okay and supposedly asked after him and wished him well before Alexander passed) in the years that followed, until he was on his death bed, he expressed nothing but neutrality or even pride for having shot Hamilton. The ‘the world was wide enough’ comment could plausibly be entirely made up, and even if it were true, it was supposedly said toward the end of Burr’s life. Burr's life was quite a ride after Alex. He tried to make like his own empire out of Texas, and then of course was tried for treason, but he got out of that, but then everyone hated him for that ON TOP OF already hating him for killing Hamilton, so he had some crazy journey around Europe for a while. He kept a journal, writing entries like letters to Theo. The most notable things I think he writes he'd "been amused for an hour with a very handsome young Dane. Don't smile. It is a male!" which implies maybe Theodosia knew her dad was bi and was at least amused by it? And he spent a while living with Jeremy Bentham, who is generally accepted to have been gay (if you want more Burr gayness look into Jonathan Bellamy and Robert Troup. Troup knew Hamilton too!). Unrelated to his sexuality but I find it important, Burr spent, in modern cash, $40 on a coconut, in his own words, "like an ass." He returned to America eventually. I dont remember if it was before or after his foreign adventures, but his beloved grandson (also named Aaron Burr) died, and then not long after, Theodosia was lost at sea on her way to visit her dad. No one knows what happened to her. It's so sad. Anyway he married a wealthy widow named Eliza, spent all her money on charity, and died the day their divorce was finalized. And Eliza Jumel's divorce lawyer was Alexander Hamilton Jr..

Poor Eliza couldn’t go through all of her husband’s papers. Her son, John Church Hamilton, finished the work for her when she no longer could and put together the biography that inspired Chernow’s that inspired Lin’s musical. (He named a son Alexander and a daughter Elizabeth. He even named one of his sons Laurens! Aw.) And we have come full circle.

The End :33

There’s probably more but that’s what I’ve got. Thanks for reading!

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siriuslyobsessedwith · 3 years

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Re-introducing!Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger

After the war, they (of course) went back for their unofficial eighth year of instruction, but they were far from unencumbered, and they weren’t ready to meet each other again. They were haunted by the past, only barely settling into the present, and absolutely refused to even hope for a future.

Hermione was head girl, and she dove into her duties, perhaps to an obsessive and excessive degree, to distract herself. From her growing feeling of isolation, from her fear of the future, from how much she missed Ron and Harry. He watched her, but only from a distance. Disinterest turned into curiosity turned into...something he wasn’t ready or willing to acknowledge. And that was perfectly fine.

Draco was in a perpetual state of guilt. He tried his best to melt into the shadows, to keep his head down and his eyes averted and his shoulders slouched, so that no one mentioned how bloody ridiculous and ironic it was that he got to be here at all. He still excelled in all of his classes, but he kept to himself, kept himself away, anywhere outside of the classroom. Hermione watched, but only from a distance. Pity turned into curiosity turned into fascination turned into a desire to know the person he was hiding. She never approached. Maybe she was afraid too.

They graduated, they left, they went their separate ways. Draco pursued a potions and arithmancy double mastery, which required him to travel back and forth from Egypt to Germany to Italy for upwards of four years. He tried to keep himself locked up, still convinced of his unworthiness, until his classmates (who didn’t recognize the name Malfoy) forced him to open up. And, slowly, gradually, he got to learn who he was.

Hermione let herself tumble (ceremoniously and properly, of course) into the Ministry pipeline. She started as an aide to a wealthy representative to the Wizenagamot, jumped to Head of the Department of Magical Creatures, hopscotched to Assistant Advisor to the Minister. She had expected to be full of joy, of purpose at the Ministry, but every day she went home feeling empty and doubtful and used. Ron and Harry were off taking the DMLE by storm. She just didn’t have that type of fight in her anymore.

She flirts with friendships and boys and even, sometimes, men (if she’s lucky); he engages in flings and encounters and dances with women. They skirt around the edges of normalcy, almost watching from a distance, both wondering what’s holding them back.

Draco returns to England four years later after receiving a job offer from an up-and-coming potions company that is searching for a cost-effective Wolfsbane alternative. He’s a new man, full of purpose, having shed the weight of the past, even though he knows how much his history defines him.

Hermione had quit her job four months earlier, having been sought quite ardently by the head of Zabini Development to head up his research and development team. She’d gotten tired and disillusioned with her dreams of becoming Minister. She saw Zabini Development as a chance to make change now, to be in power now rather than wait 20 more years to make change while fighting against centuries of traditions and misogyny.

Had they thought of each other in those years apart? Maybe, they’d tell each other later, secret smiles on their lips whisper “yes, of course I did”. But when they reconnected at a seminar for rehabilitative potions in London another two years later, having only read about each other’s career, they were loath to admit such a weakness to their largest competitor.

Surnames, exchanged. Glances, chanced. They’re both battling within themselves, trying to decide between honesty and the protective coldness they both adopt. Of course, they choose to be idiotically stubborn and spend the entire conference arguing about the merits of using crushed vs. finely chopped dragon scale in Wolfsbane as a means of long-term preservation.

A dance, perhaps, that they both are secretly enjoying. “No, Malfoy, that’s preposterous” countered by “But of course you would think that, Granger, no need to be embarrassed.” They exchange sneers instead of smiles and curses instead of kindnesses. Just like they always used to do. But their eyes cannot lie, do not lie. They are locked into each other now, on a collision course after years of being permanently and distantly separated.

One month later, Hermione receives an owl. When she reads it, she turns bright red, tosses the crumpled paper into the fire, and grabs her Floo powder. Moments later, she is storming into Draco Malfoy’s lab at Magix Pharmaceuticals.

“How. Dare. You.” She puffs, her anger coating every feature, every movement. He’s shocked, speechless and terrified by the burning queen in front of him. Of course, he doesn’t let that fear show.

She’s storming back and forth in front of his desk now, eyes wild and ranting, hands moving everywhere and at her hips and through her hair and he is absolutely transfixed. But of course he can’t let that show.

She comes to an abrupt halt. “Are you even listening, Malfoy?! You just dropped a bloody job offer on me, a PERSONALLY SIGNED job offer, practically trying to pawn me off your best mate, and you’ve put me in a terribly unprofessional situation!”

Swallow, he reminds himself. Breathe, he thinks. “What is unprofessional about it, Granger? Zabini knows all’s fair in love and war. I don’t see—“

“That’s it, though, you do see. We both know Magix is far ahead of Zabini in almost everything and I’d be a fool to turn you down, but if Zabini finds out I’m switching he will never ever stop with the teasing and I can’t poss——“

She stops. She pauses. Breath, Hermione, he didn’t hear, he isn’t listening, he won’t understand. She looks up to see the most terrible, beautiful, self-amazed smirk on his lips, and she knows it is all over now.

“Granger, whatever would Zabini tease you about?” He knows, she thinks. He knows, he knows, he knows, goddammit.

She purses her lips at him. He licks his lips. She tucks a curl behind her ear. He loops his fingers through his belt and cocks his head back.

They’re dancing again, but they know they are right up against the edge. On step, wrong or right, and they will tumble over together.

“You, Malfoy. You know bloody well he’s going to tease me about you. I can’t possibly understand how I am the only one subjected to his mockery but I gu—“

He’s across his deck in a moment, up next to her in a blink.

“You know something, Granger? He’s been teasing me for almost 10 years now. Every time he saw you in the Ministry, I’d receive a owl with a crudely depicted image of your outfit that day. Every letter he wrote me, you’d somehow work your way in.”

“Blaise is a legilmens, isn’t he?,” she breathes, terrified by his proximity and the way her body is responding.

“Yes, and an extremely invasive and devious one at that. He’s a devil, and I don’t know why we’re friends with him.”

“So.”

Unspoken, they come to agreement. Their eyes are still tethered, but when Hermione finishes blinking, their lips are tethered too, moving in tandem through the dance they both knew too well. She gasps, a tiny sound that disappears between them, and his hands are at her waist and in her hair and on her stomach all at once and she can’t even think except for “what had they been waiting for?”

They pull apart, and it’s the first time she has ever seen him remotely embarrassed.

“You know, Mr. Malfoy, we’ve spent an awful long time waiting and not a bit of time living. I think we ought to be introduced, yes?”

She smiles at the way she can turn him speechless, but she’s nervous all the same. Maybe she’s read him wrong. Maybe she was an object of lust rather than everything that comes along with love.

“Alright,” he nods, sticking out his hand. “Malfoy. Draco Malfoy. And you are?”

“Hermione Granger. Pleased to meet you, Draco.”

He smirks. She called him Draco. It sounds so...foreign. She slips her hand into his. And they walk off to inform their mutual best friend that, after years of harassment and mockery, they’ve finally decided to listen to him and get together.

Oh, and for Hermione to give her two weeks notice to her boss. And for Draco to request two weeks off. They have seven years of “getting to know each other” to fit into whatever spurts of time they can make for each other. They’ve spent too long dancing around the truth and their feelings and what they want. They don’t have another second to waste.

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captainsimagines · 3 years

Text

To Topple A Giant || Chapter Three

Summary: You had made it your mission to destroy even the smallest evils. When the opportunity arises to finally take down your own family after years of gaining their trust, you reach for it. And so does Steve, the man who represents a symbol of everything you hate.

Pairing(s): Steve Rogers x Reader || Avengers x Reader

Part 3 of 10 ~ Mini-Series

Warnings: This story contains mature themes and discussions such as extreme canon violence, strong language, emotional angst, mentions of Endgame deaths and recoveries, sexual situations, and emotional/physical abuse. All trigger warnings will be listed before the chapter. This is purely fanfiction.

Warnings in this chapter: sexual harassment (slight); talk of sexism/misogyny/canon violence; mentions of drug use; mentions of depression

Word Count: 8,900+

The Compound, 2023, 3:16pm

It probably would have been better to grieve as a group, to help each other in understanding what just happened, to lean on each other. But the second you saw Clint fall to his knees without Natasha beside him, soul stone in hand and face miserable, like he saw a wandering ghost in need of help, you started to walk backwards off the platform.

You stumbled and teetered before finding balance against the railing. No one seemed to notice you, all wrapped in their own suffocating grief, and you abandoned the group to run across the grounds of the compound. It wasn’t until you ended up by the lake that you realized you were crying, tears flowing but face tough and angry, chest heaving as you came to a stop. You just stared at the ground, shaking hands still gloved and teammates still back at the compound and - oh, god Clint, oh god, oh god, oh god.

Chest still tight and finding it harder to breathe, you shut your eyes and leaned against the nearest tree. Several minutes flew by, the only sounds that of your suit’s fabric stretching and retracting as your breathing grew slower. And the grief that enveloped you almost instantly turned into fury, and it hurt, it hurt, but you were just so damn angry that you found yourself wishing it was you. Natasha didn’t deserve this, and neither you, but you would give anything to just believe for a second that this couldn’t be real.

But you all knew the risks. This was inevitable. And you were so angry.

Voices startled you from your thoughts and you watched your teammates pace toward the dock, ideas bouncing from one head to another as they strategized ways to reverse this. But Clint quickly shut them up, telling them that no matter what they did, a sacrifice was a sacrifice and that was the end of it.

“It was supposed to be me.”

And finally someone said it, because it should have been anyone but Natasha, and that thought caused bile to burn your throat and why in the world could you not control your breathing?

You ran from your spot, legs carrying you to the gardens and burning as you increased speed. You collapsed near the lake, shredding your suit until you were left in the comfortable t-shirt and leggings underneath, sounds of the garden ringing in your ears.

The time of day could be told by the purple and orange streaks painting the sky, evening dew on the plants near your feet and the sound of a cricket’s chirp cutting through the silence. You counted the hours this way, focusing on the colors and sounds of the outside world that for some reason, didn’t feel like your own anymore. Guilt latched onto your core as you found yourself falling into the therapeutic senses of it all, eyes closing and a silent plea of ‘I’m so sorry, Nat’ escaping your lips. The tears you had shed hours ago were now dry, creating a minor strain of your skin, noticeable as you moved your face.

Legs dangling from the dock and eyes simply watching the sky change shades, you barely heard the soft footsteps behind you. And you smiled, surprised that it took your teammates this long to recognize your absence.

Thor grumbled below his breath as he sat beside you, his feet barely touching the water. You swung your legs together, impossibly empty yet consumed minds working behind such sad eyes.

“You want to jump in and freeze? It’s autumn, it’s cold, we’ll probably die from hypothermia.”

Your body lunged forward lightly as a tiny laugh left your throat, a small smile twitching on the corner of your lips. “Yeah, I’m down.”

Thor grinned at your equally dark response, reaching over and gripping your hand in his. He rubbed small circles into your knuckles and resumed watching the clouds shift.

You looked down at your conjoined hands, wondering why he came after you in the first place. Still, you squeezed his hand back and relaxed in the feeling.

“Doesn’t seem worth it anymore.”

Thor turned his head, “She traded her soul for trillions of others who had no choice.”

You mumbled, “Still isn’t fair.”

Thor scooted closer to you and wrapped his arm around your shoulder, grinning when you accepted the invitation to lean into him.

“None of this fair. We have one more fight, Y/N.”

You sighed, ready to complain and run back to the compound to lay under a mountain of blankets, wallowing in self-pity and increasing depression.

“Look at me,” Thor instructed, gently pulling away from you. “I know what you’re feeling. I too want to sleep and never wake up.”

Your face dropped, sympathy flooding your eyes. You raised a hand to lay your palm on his cheek, wiping away the stray tear he had let slip. “You don’t have to be so strong.”

Thor leaned into the feeling of your warm hand and he gave you a sad smirk. “I know. But it’s all we know how to be.”

Thor could sense your depleting energy, and as much as he wanted to carry you to your bed and wrap a blanket around you, cup of tea ready and some comedy movie on repeat, he had to persuade you. There was one more fight that needed to be fought.

“Breathe, and think of the first thing that brings you comfort. Lean into that, let it give you strength, and use it.”

You turned to him, prepared to protest, but Thor simply gripped your face in his hands, allowing you to do the same. He rested his forehead against yours. “Think and use it.”

You nodded, still apprehensive to the idea, but you shut your eyes and thought. New and old friends. It could have been anything - Natasha’s final and unknown farewell, Wanda’s loud laugh as she fought Sam (who was on Steve’s shoulders and her on Bucky’s) and tried pushing him into the water, or even Tony’s face as he realized he forgot to put the lid over the blender before turning it on - anything, but you held onto the first flash of joy your mind recalled.

The sudden image of Steve’s face frightened you. Not because Steve himself was scary, but because the more you thought of him, the more prepared you were for the final battle. You had something to fight for. Someone. You simply saw Steve - Steve who tucked his knees up to his chest when he sketched the trees outside his bedroom window - and how he would put his pencil down and march toward you because ‘don’t you ever knock?’, and push you out of his room as you laughed and apologized at the same time.

“Use it,” Thor repeated. You opened your eyes.

So you wiped your tears and changed back into your suit, hair now held in a ponytail and new gun on your hip. Your breath hitched as Bruce lifted the gauntlet to put it on, his eyes swimming with fear but also determination, and you found yourself glancing at Steve. He felt eyes on him, and he found yours, and something alerted you of the shift. Perhaps this was his last straw, it was yours too, but this was different. You wanted to go back to Thor and ask him to help you find that memory again, ‘tell me to imagine Steve again, Steve with his soft face and gentle hands, Steve who doesn’t look like he’s just seen a ghost!’. A perfect stranger, and before you could ponder such a drastic change, Bruce began screaming in agony. You stood behind Tony, allowing Bruce’s screams to fuel your energy, because you had one more fight.

Just one more.

A Forest in Iowa, 2025, 6:47am

You awoke with a strangled groan, a crick in the neck that needed to be remedied by a quick snap to the opposite side and a very numb ass. You dreaded having to remove your arms from the warmth the blanket provided, but the quicker you turned the car on you could relax. You leaned over and did so, the tingles along your lower back and bottom begging you to get out of the car. Steve was startled awake from the sudden rumble of the engine, alert within seconds and examining his surroundings.

You practically crawled out the car and stretched every muscle, even muscles you didn’t know could become inflamed, and started walking around the campsite while rubbing your palms on your sore ass. Steve joined you outside after a few minutes, laughing at the random stretches you were performing.

“Laugh all you want, Rogers but if I don’t get this knot out my ass then any danger we encounter you’re taking out alone.”

“Do you need help?”

You snapped your body back up, an involuntary loud cackle rising from your throat. “That would be a treat.”

Steve rolled his eyes and began stretching himself, arms bent and raised behind his head as he tugged on his elbows. “I just meant in general. Not specifically your ass.”

You giggled at his innocence, walking back to the car and grabbing the blanket you had regretfully crawled from. You wrapped it around your shoulders and made your way back to Steve, extending your right leg out and dipping your upper body down to continue the stretch. You heard the sudden ‘pop!’ of your hip, surprising both you and Steve. You screamed in slight but joyful surprise, pulling yourself back up to look at Steve. He just stared back, amazement and a little concern in his face. He scrunched his nose and smiled wide.

“That hurt?”

You shook your head ‘no’ and extended your left leg now, bending down and stretching the same way. Again, ‘pop!’

And Steve had to walk away in complete astonishment, hands covering his ears and a comical expression on his face, because it just sounded so weird.

You stopped at the first secluded diner you stumbled upon, barely open for the morning and understaffed. There was a lonely waitress behind the counter folding napkins and cleaning the leftover coffee grounds someone forgot to clean before her. She looked about thirty, slightly dark circles under her eyes, but presented a cheerful smile as you and Steve walked through the door. If she was surprised with two Avengers walking into her place of work, she did an excellent job at hiding it.

“What can I get you two?”

You took a seat on the light blue swivel chair at the counter and flashed the waitress a kind smile as you spoke. Her name tag read ‘Martha’. “Coffee and tea to start with, please.”

She clicked the coffee maker on and went to retrieve a kettle from the back, leaving you and Steve alone.

“You hungry?” you asked.

Steve plopped down in the chair beside you, already grabbing the two sugar packets he would put into his tea. “Starved.”

You rolled your eyes, “You were the one who refused the last granola bar.”

“You said you were hungry.”

“Aw, you starved yourself for me?”

Steve huffed in annoyance, playing with his sugar packets and head hung low to avoid recognition from incoming customers. You stared at him longer than usual, studying the way his jaw ticked every so often and how he would sniff at nothing only to pass the time and countless thoughts. You reached over and grabbed a handful of sugar packets, piling them in between you and the super soldier, and began constructing the base of a tower. It seemed to snap Steve out of whatever thought he had, and he quickly became interested. He helped steady the base, careful fingers adding to the height. You two worked in silent cooperation, little giggles filling the empty and quiet diner.

Martha returned with two mugs and went to grab both the freshly made coffee and tea. She watched as you and Steve constructed your sugar packet tower, a smirk on her face as she poured your drinks. “Anything to eat?”

And it was one of the best meals you had. The sheer amount of grease on those sausages and hash browns warmed your once empty stomach and meshed with the coffee in the most delightful way. You almost wanted to ask for seconds, those scrambled eggs not nearly enough, but the longer you stalled the longer the ride on the freeway was going to be.

You paid and left a generous tip, finishing the remaining amount of coffee in your mug. Steve had gone to the restroom, your sugar packet tower still standing tall and proud. It didn’t seem like Martha was going to knock it down any time soon. The bell over the front door dinged with a new arrival, the cold air from outside making you clutch your hot mug tighter.

You glanced over your shoulder out of instinct. The man looked to be in his mid-forties, a trucker no doubt, and had only the slightest hint of an unwashed smell. He took a place at the counter a few seats away from you, throwing his hat down and begging Martha to bring him a coffee of his own. You took a sip from your mug.

“Woah, you’re an Avenger, aren’t you?”

Busted.

“Nope.”

The man scooted a few seats closer, eyes now wide awake. He pointed at you in an almost accusatory manner, but voice still cheery. “No, seriously - I’ve seen your face in the news and everything!”

You set your coffee down and saw the look of pity Martha was throwing you from across the counter. “You want a picture or something?”

The man laughed now, a nasty smirk on his face. “Or something would be nice.”

Your face scrunched and your shoulders immediately tensed. “You better not be implying-?”

“Woah, hey, no harm here! I just mean, you’re here alone and I’m here alone…”

You looked away from him, taking a big swig from your mug. The burn down your throat was somewhat therapeutic. “I’ll do the picture or else I start screaming.”

“I’d love to hear that.”

Steve rounded the corner when he heard a full-on conversation he was sure just started during his absence. He almost cursed himself for leaving you alone during such an important mission, even if it was to urinate. He could have had you standing outside the men’s restroom just to feel more secure of your well-being. Still, he remained behind the wall and listened to the conversation. If Steve was to interrupt before you could get your own kicks in, then he wouldn’t hear the end of it.

‘I had him on the ropes!’

‘Excuse me for assisting a teammate!’

‘Get bent!’

Yeah, Steve would let you kick this person’s ass and brag about it instead of yapping at him.

You groaned, hoping the loud sound would make the man retreat back to his breakfast. “Bet you would.”

But it seemed to encourage him more, and he stepped closer to lean on the counter and bump your shoulder with his. You kept your eyes trained on your abandoned coffee.

“C’mon, I’m just a lonely trucker trying to make ends meet. I think I deserve some kind of reward.”

You put on your best fake smile, tilting your head towards him. You flashed your teeth, a great distraction for him as you reached into your pocket for your throwing knife. “That picture offer seems to be wearing very, very thin, dude.”

He placed his dirty hand on your shoulder, squeezing as he spoke in a low whisper. “Guess that’s for the best.”

His hand was immediately twisted from your shoulder, the sound of his instant wail frightening poor Martha. You knew what had happened, and as chill as ever, you swiveled the chair around casually.

The man groaned in discomfort, “Woah, hey! - oh my god.”

Steve’s single hand was crushing his, digits begging for mercy as each second Steve squeezed even harder. He could feel the man’s knuckles start to crack painfully. “Yeah, ‘oh my god’. Touch her again and I’ll total your truck.”

The man shook his head violently, “We were just talking!”

“Nuh-uh,” you chuckled, elbows resting on the counter behind you.

“C’mon Cap, you gotta believe me!” The man tried to sprinkle some humor on the situation, which only caused Steve to shove him into a booth, hand still gripping his.

Steve towered over him now as the man had no choice but to fall back into the booth. “That’s just it - I don’t.”

The man looked from Steve’s face, to yours, to his own purpling and bruising hand. “What are you two doing out in the middle of nowhere anyway? Danger nearby?”

You stood from your seat and stood beside Steve, arms crossed and a smirk on your face. “Look, bud - tell anyone you saw us and you’ll regret it.”

And like the idiot he was, even with Steve’s hand cramping down on him, he still countered. “Are you threatening me?”

Steve couldn’t believe this guy. Of course, he could squeeze harder and just yank this guy’s fingers clean off, but he wasn’t that evil. The guy was just a creep and a pervert, which in Steve’s moral compass, called for a few cuts and scrapes and not a permanent disability.

“Yup, and I tend to have some creative ways of framing people.”

“C’mon, I know you can hit harder than that!”

Steve threw a few more punches at the cushion Bucky was holding up, boxing gloves nearly sliding from his fists because of their large size.

“One more, there we go!”

Bucky lowered the cushion as Steve threw his last punch, racing toward the bench to fetch Steve’s inhaler and hand it to the younger boy.

“I could have gone longer.”

Bucky smiled at his best friend, “I’m sure you could have but you were about to pop a lung and I love you too much to see you go out that way, pal.”

Steve took a drag of his inhaler at the same time he tried to wrap his arm around Bucky’s neck. But the older boy was quicker and lunged out of the way, taking a celebratory light jog around the ring for such minimal effort on his part. Steve just glared at him, a small smirk forming as Bucky started chanting.

“Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes, defenders of America, the world, we avenge the fallen!”

Steve let Bucky exaggerate, inhaler finally working enough for him to take a big swig of water. “You really think we’ll save the world?”

Bucky held his chest and laughed loudly, “America isn’t going to war anytime soon, pal. Let’s focus on rescuing dames from bullies and perverts first!”

“Captain, you gonna let her-?”

You snapped your fingers in his face to get his wandering eyes back on you, “I’m speaking to you.”

Steve couldn’t hide his grin, a slight blush growing on his cheeks due to your authoritative tone. He had heard you speak this way countless times, roughing up some guy on the opposite side whenever they proved difficult. Although you weren’t currently throwing punches, Steve was proud nonetheless.

You continued, “Tell anyone and I’ll tell the cops you tried selling us drugs.”

The man’s eyes widened comically, “What? I don’t even have-”

You reached into your back pocket and revealed a tiny baggy half-full of white powder. Martha’s tiny giggle reminded the man that he had an audience, a possible witness, but her overall lack of involvement was enough to know he was alone in this. “Come again? You were saying something?”

The man gritted his yellowing teeth, “No fucking way.”

You jiggled the baggy closer to his face, watching in amusement as he whipped his head to the side as if it was poison. “Way. I’ll stash it in your beloved truck where only the dogs can smell it.”

Steve, hands still gripping the man out of instinct, was completely shocked. He watched the baggy in the most peculiar way - analyzing its size, crumpled appearance, even the way the tiny specks of white dust latched onto the moisture inside, resembling salt or sugar. Obviously he knew what product you handled, but he had never seen it up close and personal unless he was in the evidence locker room. Maybe ‘shock’ wasn’t used with negative connotation, because Steve wanted to both laugh at your threat and snatch the baggy from you to ensure no other soul saw you handling it.

The man looked from both you and Steve, determined expression falling as he ran out of viable options. He sighed in defeat, “Okay.”

You snatched the baggy away from his face and pocketed it. You smiled at him with such brightness, as if you hadn’t just threatened to ruin his life. “Cool, nice meeting you!”

Steve let him go and walked back to his original seat to pick up his coat. He ignored the annoying babbling from across the diner, choosing to grab your belongings too and smiling at Martha as he took his leave. You rushed after him, turning back to wave at Martha.

“Best coffee ever, Martha!”

You settled into the car and continued your drive fairly easily, a comfortable silence between you two. Steve didn’t know if it was the jitters from the coffee - not like he was really affected by caffeine anyway - or the effects from the uncomfortable situation he should have pulled you from sooner, because next thing he knew his voice was an octave higher and cracking. “So, you just had that shit in your back pocket this whole time?”

You choked on your laugh and covered your mouth, looking up from your phone and at him. You shared the same playful look in your eyes.

You shrugged, “You never know when you might need it.”

Steve shook his head but kept the same tiny grin, “Do you…?”

The playfulness somewhat subsided, and you shifted uncomfortably in your seat. The seatbelt was digging into your right breast and side of your neck. Steve waited for your response, the question an entirely personal one. He was about to retract it, apologize and focus on the freeway for the remainder of your trip, but you cleared your throat.

“Once. But I was young, curious, and it burned like hell so I didn’t do it again.”

You were fourteen, still unsure of yourself and the world around you, clinging onto the inner child your environment was beginning to kill. You remember running through the mansion, the ranches, random hotels and random weddings - a dozen other children and teenagers running alongside you, each avoiding interaction with those their guardians had told them to avoid. And you remembered the day you wanted to enter your bedroom to retrieve your little iPod shuffle, the door resisting as you pushed. Your strength ultimately won, revealing a bedroom floor full of all types of guns, grenades, and automatic rifles. You didn’t scare easily, you never had, but that angered and annoyed you greatly. That was your room, your own sacred space to avoid confrontation, and it had been tainted. You had stepped over the guns carefully and reached your bedside table. Attaching your headphones to the device and clicking shuffle, you had almost missed the packages of drugs laying on your white bedsheet. Where you slept.

More out of anger than curiosity, you had carefully poked a hole in one of those taped packages and rubbed it over your teeth and gums like you saw some of your father’s men do. The sensation was weird, more numb than anything, and although you wanted it to taste like the flour you used for baking, it didn’t. So you picked a small portion under your pinky nail and sniffed. It burned, similar to when you burped and the carbonation came back up through your nose, and you wanted to scream. An instant headache, an unknown high, and a very angry Seda appeared around the same moment.

“Why do you carry it now?” Steve asked.

You snapped yourself out of the flashback, “My father knows we’re traveling by car. We’ll be arriving in the next day or so. He could call at any time and tell me he needs someone taken out in whatever state we’re currently passing through.”

Steve hummed, face showing discomfort. “Taken out? Do you often plant drugs on innocent people?”

You huffed, “Hardly innocent. Just drug dealers or other smugglers that got on his bad side.”

You played with the button to roll down the window, watching the moisture from water droplets begin to dry and leave their smudge. You continued, “Quick drop into a glove compartment or someone’s pocket while they’re distracted usually does the trick.”

Steve’s shoulders relaxed, “Guess I can understand that.”

You left the window slightly open, the cold air nipping at your cheeks. The smell of rain was prominent. “I do my research before, you know. I don’t just frame random people.”

Your soft voice suddenly hurt Steve, almost like you were accusing him of thinking of you as evil. Whether you discussed your undercover work with him or not, he would never assume you escaped morals. You were an Avenger after all, and even though no one knew, Tony used to have a huge part in the decision-making process with Fury. And if Tony had seen something in you, then he trusted him. “I know.”

“Thank you, by the way. I may not look it, but he did scare me for a sec.”

Steve sighed, “We’re partners, Y/N. I would never let anything or anyone hurt you.”

You rolled your eyes at his sincerity, smiling toward him but avoiding his gaze. “Still… thanks.”

“No problem. Your playlist this time?”

You passed the next several hours listening to mostly instrumental music, the foggy and dense atmosphere of each state you drove through providing the same calm feeling. It was winter after all, and although California didn’t have quite as much snow as the midwest, it certainly had rain. The drive consisted of small talk about your surroundings, about your friends, about the most random things you could fill into a twelve hour time stamp. You played with the seat warmers, laughing when Steve jumped a foot in the air when his got a little too hot for his liking. And his cursing. When you first met Steve, he didn’t curse all that much unless it was in the middle of a fight or when he was truly angry. But now, especially after these last couple of years, his vocabulary expanded to new inappropriate lengths. You didn’t mind, no, it made the conversations all that more interesting.

So when Steve grumbled under his breath as he spilled crumbs from his granola bar onto the passenger seat (you had volunteered driving the sixth hour in), and mumbled “jesus fucking christ”, you gave him such a bright smile with equally bright eyes that had Steve scrunching his eyebrows together and he leaned away from you, a blush crawling up his neck.

‘What?’

‘You took the lord’s name in vain.’

‘Yeah, so what?’

‘Over a granola bar.’

‘... I see your point.’

You stopped about an hour away from the hotel, legs cramping and backs strained but overall happy that no one else on the journey recognized you two. There had been that kid who paused in the aisle of a small gas station, wide eyes staring up at both you and Steve as you reached for a bag of chips. Steve had crouched down to his height, chatting for a few seconds before giving him a small fist bump. You smiled at the kid, bringing your finger up to your mouth to mime a tiny ‘shh’, and followed Steve out the store after paying.

You spent the next few minutes stretching, the sudden pops of your hips causing Steve to create as much of a fuss he had done before.

‘Is that normal?’

‘It’s a ball and socket joint, they crack.’

‘So violently?’

‘It actually feels awesome.’

The California air was musty this season, humid and wet. The smell of various weeds and tree bark overpowered anything else, and although there was moisture in the air, the coldness dried your eyes. You found yourself blinking multiple times to accumulate some tears, and you reached into your backpack to reapply some lip gloss. You donned a simple, forest green tracksuit with a knitted sweater over it all, layers and layers to combat the cold breeze. Steve wore a similar knitted sweater, but he seemed less fazed by the cold than you were.

“So, how much do you trust this person?”

You snapped your head up from your lazy resting and asked Steve to repeat his question. Once heard, you shrugged and answered. “About ninety-five percent.”

Steve chuckled and wrapped his arms over his chest, “Will it ever be a hundred? C’mon.”

You grinned back and took a deep breath, chilly air slightly burning your sinuses. “They took a bullet for me once. And they didn’t have to.”

You were meeting your main contact of the mission. Maribel, a childhood friend, a friend who ultimately took a bullet for you to keep your undercover identity a secret. You could have been compromised, forced to stand trial in front of your father and his men, but she took the fall. After going off the grid and living in Madripoor for about six years, she had contacted you after the snap. Her relief, and her eagerness for revenge, all were to your benefit. So you fed her any information you could, both vowing to fuck with your father in any means. And since you were the only person on the inside with ties to the Avengers, having Maribel be an insider with no ties ultimately helped prepare your case. Two sides, two people with shared experiences, all truth. And you were going to do everything in your power to clear her name and get her a good deal.

“So, why isn’t it a hundred?”

“I haven’t trusted anyone a full one-hundred percent since SHIELD was compromised.”

Steve’s voice dropped a little, but you could still make out his teasing tone. “Do you trust me?”

“It wavers.”

“Wait-”

You interrupted and pointed toward the trail hidden by the trees, “There she is.”

Maribel had changed immensely since you last saw her. Her natural ginger hair was now dyed a dark brown, her freckles seeming to have multiplied and draped themselves from her cheeks and down her neck, over her shoulders, etc. She wore all black, leather jacket and leather boots, loose strands of hair blocking the view of shoulder buttons and shoulder pockets. She looked younger, more refreshed in her natural glow, healthy even. You found yourself breathing a sigh of relief, chest tightening with genuine love as she flashed you a wide smile. You gave her a tight hug, patting her back and welcoming her back to the states. She smelled of the bushes she had to track through to get here.

She released you from her tight grip and looked over at Steve, giving him an almost teasing look. “Heard you were invited. Nice to meet you Captain.”

Steve shook her hand, “Pleasure’s all mine.”

She chuckled and winked at him, “Y/N inform you about me? How do I sound? Look?”

Steve seemed to be affected the same way you had, an involuntarily reddening of his cheeks giving him away. “Like a possible ally.”

Maribel scoffed playfully, “I’ll take what I can get.”

“Status?” you asked.

Maribel handed you the file she carried, “Hotel is secure. Neighboring cities have no alerts about your arrival or of the upcoming celebration. Everything’s pretty quiet.”

You smirked, looking over to Steve in recognition of what that meant. “Of course it is. He wouldn’t dare kill any U.S citizens on American soil.”

“Heard he got sloppy,” Maribel sang, rocking back and forth on her heels.

“Let’s hope it’s to our benefit. You meet up with the agent in charge I told you about?”

Maribel nodded, “Torres is set up a few miles from the venue. He’s been running surveillance for about three days already.”

“If you can’t get into contact with me, Torres is your second. Got it? He reports back to Sam.”

Maribel agreed, “Got it. So, what’s the plan for the rest of the week?”

“Steve and I will draft a report tomorrow morning and send you the encrypted file.”

“Can’t wait. It’s nice to see you again, Y/N,” she smiled, bringing you back into a tight hug. Steve simply stood to the side, listening around for any disturbances.

“Likewise,” you spoke, sad to watch her walk away and back toward the hidden path. Her feet crunched on some fallen leaves purposefully. You suddenly remembered the bit of information that could be useful if Maribel were to encounter an old foe.

You called out to her, “Oh, and if anybody asks - Steve is my boyfriend and you’ve known about it for three years now!”

Steve hid his face behind his hand, looking down to his feet to avoid Maribel’s teasing and humorous expression. “Lucky you!”

The hotel was nicer than you expected, the pictures on google doing little to showcase just how grand it really was. With some of your savings and a little money under the table from Fury, you were able to book a single bedroom with two beds for five nights. Obviously, the wedding night wasn’t counted as the two of you were going to have to haul ass immediately, but five nights in this grand arena seemed vacation enough.

From the outside, it seemed like any chain hotel, but the inside provided a more Gothic feel. It compared to a Vegas type, but also your typical breakfast inn. It was an odd combination, but you figured they had that liberty since it was a really quiet part of the city and didn’t see many regular customers.

You lugged your suitcases through the elevator doors and pressed the button for the seventh floor, looking around for the security cameras in the corner. You spotted the red light blinking and immediately smiled and waved.

“Steve, say hi to Bucky.”

Steve looked at the camera and raised an eyebrow, giving a small wave. “You know regular security can see us, too?”

“Can’t hear us, though. Neither can Bucky.”

“So, if I were to call him a thousand bad words right now, he wouldn’t know?”

You squinted at Steve as the elevator dinged, “He can still read our lips.”

“That adds to the fun!”

The room was big enough to set up an extra pull-out table and computer in the corner, the only separate part being the bathroom to the side of the entrance door. The beds were both queen sized, multiple throw pillows scattered on top and two bedside tables in the middle.

You rushed inside and threw your suitcase carelessly at the foot of the bed closest to the door, and ran to leap in the air and land face first on the cushy mattress. “Heaven!”

Steve picked up your suitcase and set it against the wall, “Glad to see you’re already making yourself at home.”

You rolled over and pressed some pillows to your chest, “You ever plopped yourself down onto a hotel bed? Do it!”

Steve tilted his head slightly, reluctant to the idea. “What if I break it?”

You burst out laughing, “Oh my god, I didn’t even think of that.”

Steve sighed, shoulders sagging as he gave in. “Promise you won’t laugh if I break it?”

“Do you know me?”

Steve rolled his eyes and braced himself against the wall, pushing himself off and leaping into the air only lightly, crashing onto the bed the same way you did. The bed creaked and made a horrible sound. But it held, the wood proving stronger than you thought.

“Okay, I see the pleasure in that,” Steve laughed, face still smushed inside the mountain of pillows. You lay in your own beds for about an hour, naps wholeheartedly enforced.

A quick knock on your hotel door snapped you from your short slumber. You rolled over with a groan, looking over your shoulder at a still snoring Steve. His age was catching up to him alright, because he totally should have woken up from that. You opened the door and greeted Torres, allowing him to step inside. He lugged in a hotel cart with a heavy drape over it, careful in not hitting the doorway.

“Agent Y/L/N, it’s so great to see you again!”

Now Steve was awake.

“You too! I thought our last rendezvous was cut too short,” you teased, sticking your bottom lip out and giving him puppy-dog eyes. Torres blushed under your gaze but shook his head at your flirting.

“Well, here we go again! Got everything you need right here.”

He revealed the desktop computer and multiple other monitors, radios, a printer, and earpieces.

“Looks like Christmas morning,” you joked, helping Torres set up.

“Sorry for waking you, Captain. Sam said I had to deliver all this before nighttime.”

Steve waved his apology off, “Don’t worry about it. Thanks for doing this.”

“Anything.”

You went over the itinerary for the rest of the week and once Torres announced his leave, you handed him the extra key card you had asked for.

“If you need anything, or we don’t radio in at the times we set up, you use it. Okay?”

Torres gave you a sincere smile, tucking the key card into his coat pocket. “You can count on me.”

Once Torres left the room, Steve spoke. “Watch him barge in when one of us is showering.”

“Let’s hope we don’t scar the poor kid.”

It took about two hours to set up all the tech and connect it all back to the compound. You video chatted with Bucky and Scott and discussed the itinerary tomorrow. You double-checked mic connections, triple-checked police reports filed within the last few hours, and reviewed spy cam footage Torres had taken of the ranch. It was basically homework.

“We have to set up our backstories, our so-called relationship, you have to know everything.”

Steve hummed, tapping his pen on the table. “Where do we start?”

“They might ask why you help me in the first place.”

“Fuck America, that’s why.”

You stuttered, voice timid and eyebrows high. “O-oh?”

Steve laughed at your reaction. He leaned in with confidence, “I mean, your father grew up close to a similar time I did. He’s old fashioned, no?”

“Kind of. He’s old so he hates the new clothing styles, women’s rights, the works,” you shrugged.

“Wow, he sounds worse the more you speak about him.” You rolled your eyes at Steve and his sarcastic tone. “So I can say America just changed way too much since I came out of the ice.”

You nodded and rapidly wrote the basics of the backstory into your notepad. “Okay. But I hope you know you’re gonna have to play into that conservative part, especially with him and Seda.”

“What do you mean?”

You smirked at him and cocked an eyebrow, “You gotta be drowning in toxic masculinity.”

“Fuck, really?”

You almost wanted to lean over and slap his shoulder. It was then that you realized how disconnected Steve really was to this whole situation, never once meeting your father or his minions. He didn’t know the shit that went down when he was in hiding, only the basics, and scaring him now didn’t seem like a great idea.

“Really. You’re playing the role of my boyfriend in a male-dominated drug war. They think you’re in charge, which is technically correct to assume. Your rank is higher, your status is higher, so your personality needs to match that or else you won’t gain their trust.”

Steve shifted uncomfortably on the sofa, “I don’t know the first thing about disrespecting women.”

You snorted, “I’m gonna be honest and say that was the most adorable shit I’ve ever heard.”

“Stop it.”

You spoke with your hands, fingers dancing as a way to sprinkle some sensitivity on the issue. “Order me around. Tell me when it’s time to leave, be possessive if anyone wants to get my attention, interrupt me.”

“Y/N, I don’t think I can do that.”

“You technically already do it.”

Steve blinked, “Excuse me?”

You lowered your voice to explain, “You’re my Captain. You give me orders on the field. You shut me up when I’m too loud or turning something serious into a joke.”

He shifted again, “But I don’t do it to dominate you.”

“I know you don’t. Trust me.”

“So, I gotta become an asshole?”

You nodded, “Yes. But you need to know your limits.” You handed Steve multiple files for him to examine.

“Ramirez is one of the rare ones that loves his family, especially his wife and daughters. You can’t be an ass in front of him.”

Steve grinned as he read, surprised with the restraint Ramirez and his men were able to achieve. “Guess that’s a little relief for me.”

“And White is too much into his own product all day to give a shit.”

Steve paused before he spoke, licking his lips in hesitation. “What happens if your father goes overboard?”

“Shit,” you mumbled, tumbling into the compound and practically crawling to the first floor. You didn’t know who was home or who was visiting. Wanda, Steve, Natasha, Vision, and Sam were on the run for more than a year now - Scott and Clint were on house arrest (which you were also, technically) - so you truly did not know if your cries for help would be heard. You had practically begged to accompany Wanda or be with Bucky back in Wakanda, but because of your undercover status (and the fact that your father still did not know you aided Captain America in hiding an assumed fugitive), you weren’t allowed to leave the compound without permission. The memory of the separation was almost as painful as the gunshot wound in your abdomen.

You clutched the side of your stomach and crawled through the doors.

“Arrrgh - is someone home?”

And with a stroke of luck, Rhodey rounded the corner just in time to hear your plea.

“Oh my god,” he mumbled, dashing across the room to help you sit up. “What happened?”

“They were getting too suspicious,” you said, wincing when Rhodey pressed a nearby blanket on your wound. “I couldn’t give them Steve’s location.”

“Are you talking about your father and his partner?”

You nodded quickly, helping Rhodey apply pressure.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y, alert the medics. First floor,” Rhodey stammered, the sight of your blood making him a little queasy in the morning.

“I’m gonna kill him if he got one of my kidneys - I was saving that, you know?”

Rhodey involuntarily laughed, quickly covering his mouth. You brushed it off and let him know that if you were still able to joke, he was able to laugh.

“Take your mind off the pain, what happened?”

You sighed, shutting your eyes in distress. “You know that the main players in this game are me and Steve. My father decided that it was time to meet the star-spangled man, time to meet who is distributing his product behind the back of the U.S government.”

Rhodey rotated the blanket to dab with a clean side. You continued speaking.

“I told him Steve wasn’t active at the moment - not a lie, by the way. But the more I told him that I had no way of being in touch with the dude, the angrier he got. Seda fired a warning shot into my gut, I guess.”

“Shit… I can’t authorize any more solo trips without back-up, Y/N. This has gone too far,” Rhodey sighed, adrenaline lowering once he saw a few medics burst through the door.

Hours seemed to pass before you awoke. The doctors found no serious damage, your stitches were already healing with the help of Tony’s new tech, and you were up and walking within hours. A slight pinch in your gut bothered you, but other than that you pulled yourself out of bed to go search for Rhodey. You heard voices talking over one another, all angry and authoritative. You tip-toed into the room just in time to see Rhodey end a call and turn back to the group of people he was talking to in person. Your breath hitched when you saw him, face still rugged and more tired than you remembered, but still gorgeous.

“Steve?” you quietly muttered, all eyes darting toward you. “Wanda?”

You tried to run over to them but were caught limping. Still, Wanda rushed over and enveloped you in a tight hug, noticing the way you twisted your hip outward to avoid full contact.

“Y/N, you shouldn’t be out of bed,” Rhodey said as he came over to hold you steady.

“What happened to you?” Steve asked, his hand now resting on your blushing cheek. You studied his blue eyes carefully, scared that this reunion was going to last for only a few more seconds, his warm hand making your stomach knot. He had a full beard now, hair longer than you remember, and he filled in his suit more. You were so unbelievably happy to see him after everything that went down.

You patted his chest with a soft chuckle, “Finally ripped that star off, huh?”

Steve’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, but you could see a glint of tenderness.

He placed his hand over yours, “Who’s ass do I have to kick?”

You waved your hand in the air. “Family drama.”

Rhodey didn’t let that explanation fly, though. He informed the rest of the team of what happened to you, Steve’s anger building.

But you quickly silenced them, “I’m alright. I’ll deal with it later. What threat do we currently face?”

After their brief update, you were ready to go back to bed.

“So, you’re telling me that we gotta fight this big purple dude because he wants Vision’s stone? Sure, why not?”

“I really hope he doesn’t go overboard.”

Steve repeated the question, however. “What do we do?”

You sighed, picking at the potato chips to your side. “If you’re feeling uncomfortable, or I am, we’ll just squeeze each other’s hands.”

“Like a safe word?”

Your smile grew slowly as you registered his innocent words. “Yes, Steve, like a safe word.”

You popped a chip into your mouth and leaned back into your chair, “Wow, you’re on a roll with that adorableness.”

Steve rolled his eyes and stole a chip from your bag, “Shut up.”

You pointed at him and smiled wider, “See? Toxic bitch.”

It took a moment for Steve to register his previous words, “Okay, okay. I get it. I’m sorry.”

“Forgiven.”

You dusted off your fingers and handed him even more files, “Alright, so we know that to make it in this drug game, you gotta have connections everywhere.”

“Understandable. What are we looking for tomorrow?”

“Drug lords love to conduct business in the middle of huge events. Big distractions mean more leeway.”

“But tomorrow?”

“We’re going to cut them off. Swipe their ID’s.”

You elaborated, “To survive in this business, you have to have ID’s to get anywhere and everywhere. We’re looking for fake press ID’s, fake police ID’s, even fucking farming and landowning ID’s or… licenses, really. Those two give us the proof of ownership for certain lands.”

“Just swipe them?” he asked, eyebrows raised.

“My father keeps them all in a little safe inside the wall. It’s located in the study. Just his and Seda’s.”

“And they won’t notice they’re missing?”

“Word is that they’re not planning a move until the day of the wedding. Meaning, they’ll be cut off when they open that safe. We have to keep the product from moving or else our agents won’t find the tangible evidence when we give them the green light.”

Steve wrote in his notepad. “So, we’ll focus on the hacking-?”

“During the rehearsal dinner.”

“Gotcha.”

You grabbed the bag of chips and ate a few, the silence still comfortable. You spoke, stealing Steve's attention from the files. “This is gonna work, Steve.”

Steve thinly smiled and reached over to steal the bag from your hands. “As long as we don’t get caught.”

The steam from the bathroom practically whipped Steve across the face, the smell of lotions and perfume overpowering the natural odor of the hotel air conditioner. He groaned as he searched his suitcase for his pajamas.

“You couldn’t have left me some hot water?”

You scoffed, towel rinsing your wet hair. “It’s a hotel charging two hundred a night. If you don’t have hot water, then we’ll go down there and ‘Karen’ it up.”

“Funny,” Steve mumbled, pushing past you and locking the bathroom door. You stood, arms slightly raised in confusion, expression mimicking those in comedy shows. If there was any hidden camera, your eyes scanned for it.

“Uh, what’d I do?” you mumbled to no one in particular. But you brushed off Steve’s sudden change in attitude and sat for the next thirty minutes hand drying your hair in sections and watching television. You were invested in an episode of Kitchen Nightmares that you barely heard your phone ding. You unlocked your phone, laughing under your breath at the group chat messages.

Bucky: Kill him yet?

Peter: bet she will by wednesday.

Wanda: Ridiculous, all of you

Y/N: Twenty bucks says he kills me.

Bucky: hey are you even allowed to bet on this?

Wanda: Seems fair since you’re so sure she’ll crack

Peter: She’s more sneaky

Y/N: He mad right now

Bucky: He’s always grumpy before his bedtime

Y/N: dude it’s eight

Peter: lmfao

The same fog of heat exited the bathroom as Steve opened the door and you murmured a quick ‘I told you so’ for him to hear. He ignored you, rubbing his eyes as he plugged his phone to his charger and crawled under his blankets. He sat up, though and reached over to grab his sketchbook, knees coming up to substitute as a flat surface. You snuggled into your blankets after turning the television volume lower and placing the remote closer to Steve’s bedside table. You brought the blanket up to your chin and hummed peacefully.

The sounds of Steve’s pencil prompted you to open one eye. His tongue was between his incisors and his eyes were squinted slightly, hair only a little wet from his shower and the tip of his nose pink.

“Drawing always seems to ease your mind, huh?”

Steve didn’t look up from his drawing, “It’s relaxing. I have control over it, so…”

You thought his explanation was weird, but you understood what he meant. “I wish I could draw. It seems fun.”

Steve paused his movements and glanced over at you, “Do you want to learn?”

You stretched your legs and moaned loudly, “What? You want to teach me how to draw an eye tonight? I’m warning you.”

Steve shook his head, “Right, I don’t think I have that much patience.”

You snorted, cracking your knuckles absentmindedly as you searched for a more comfortable spot. “Mm, maybe some other time?”

“I know you sing, though.”

You flopped back over to face Steve, elbow now propped up to hold your weight. “How in the world do you know that?”

“You sing sometimes, in your room. It was quiet, but you would sing along to some song on your earphones.”

You scrunched your nose and chuckled, “And you were just outside listening?”

Steve paused his movements again, “What? It was pretty.”

You sank back down into your pillows and drew the blankets higher. “I feel like you saw me naked.”

Steve scoffed, “Totally not the same thing.”

You teased Steve further, “I’m exposed.”

A throw pillow hit your side out of nowhere. “Stop it, I was being serious!”

You grabbed the pillow and threw it back at him, “I haven’t sang in a long time. I hum mostly.”

Steve caught the pillow, and resumed his sketching. “Well, you should definitely sing more.”

“Thank you, my number one fan. I’ll take that into consideration.” You sighed and closed your eyes again.

“Why did you stop?”

You winced but quickly covered it by taking in a deep breath, eyes still closed.

“You’re still fuming about it. You’re still fuming about your image being ruined. Good ol’ Captain America as a secret, undercover drug dealer!”

Steve finally showed proof of cracking, hands gripping his hair harshly. “Y/N, I said don’t start! I’m finished!”

But you persisted, now screaming and countless, frustrated tears tainting your red cheeks. “You can’t fucking stand me because I tarnished that fucking star on your chest! I made you look bad to a bunch of fucking criminals!”

“Guess I just didn’t feel like it anymore.”

Steve didn’t want to ignore that, he wanted to dig deeper, but even with much persistence pinching the tip of his tongue, he remained silent and accepted your answer. He glanced your way a few times throughout the next couple minutes, finding your chest fall into a steady rhythm as you drifted off. He turned a page in his sketchbook, quickly brushing the surface clean of any dust before starting the outline of your sleeping form.

TAGLIST: @dumb-ass-writer @justab-eautifulmess @supraveng @mycosmicparadise

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transgenderteensurvivalguide · 3 years

Note

Why is it that people seem to always support trans women more than trans men?

Lee says:

If you’re part of an online forum community that is primarily transfeminine, for example, then there’s going to be a lot of resources for transfeminine people.

But if you’re part of an online forum community that is primarily transmasculine, for example, then there’s going to be a lot of resources for transmasculine people.

And just as there are particular online spaces and communities that tend to be predominated by a certain group, there are also IRL ones that are primarily transmasculine or primarily transfeminine even if they are not explicitly defined as such.

If you feel like you aren’t being supported enough in the space you’re currently in, see if you can find a community that does focus around the resources you’re looking for!

As an example- you may have noticed that the transmasculine post-op community on Tumblr is pretty small. There definitely are multiple bloggers out there, and I think I actually follow all of them, but this isn’t really a thriving hub of phalloplasty information or support, or a large community of transmasculine folks who are post-op and post-transition (Thanks, Tumblr NSFW ban!).

So instead, I seek out the spaces where the community I want to be a part of actually is gathering. Now I’m part of many different transmasculine lower surgery groups on Facebook (over 20 of em lol), I’ve attended IRL transmasculine lower surgery support group meetings in person, and now I’m in two different Zoom-based transmasculine bottom surgery support groups.

I also believe that if you want to see more of a particular thing, you should be a part of putting that thing out there! So I still maintain my transition sideblog here on Tumblr, where I will eventually document my phallo when I get stage 1 in May. And that’s how I support the transmasculine community, in my own way. So if you want to see more supportive posts for transmasculine folks, start typing!

We also have to remember that uplifting transfeminine doesn’t automatically occur at the expense of support for transmasculine people. We aren’t trying to tear each other down, so being resentful of the transfeminine community for the people who support them isn’t a good look. Transfeminine people can never have “too much” support!

I do think that there are certain spaces online that tend to focus on positivity and support for transfeminine folks, and there’s nothing wrong with that- again, yes, transfeminine people do deserve support! Transfeminine people often face the brunt of society’s violent transphobia, and it’s important that we recognize the way that trans women specifically are targeted more than other groups are.

Trans women are often hypervisible and a lot of transphobic movements are aimed at them as a result; bathroom bills because transphobes don’t want “men” in women’s bathrooms, banning trans athletes because transphobes don’t want “men” to take over women’s teams, trans people being banned from gendered homeless shelters because transphobes don’t want “men” to sleep in the same room as women, and so on. When you listen to any of these politicians who support these gross things, you’ll hear them constantly talk about the “danger” that trans women pose (while insisting on gendering them as “men” and refusing to recognize that they’re even women). Trans men aren’t even an afterthought.

Being culturally hypervisible in the media means you’re the target of a lot of hate and the recipient of a lot of support, which is all happening at the same time. On the other hand, the transmasculine community at large is less visible in the media which means we often slip under the radar as a community which of course does tie into the erasure of the community. Transmasculine people more often slip under the radar on a personal level too, because many transmasculine people are able to pass by at least 5 years on testosterone and many choose to go stealth as soon as they’re able to.

That doesn’t mean that all transmasculine people can pass or want to pass, or that transmasculine people don’t face transphobia and violence either, or that the vitriol targeting trans women doesn’t invalidate us as well or affect our rights too, or that we shouldn’t get to share our experiences or ask for support.

We can and should talk about transmasculine people’s experiences as well, and transmasculine voices shouldn’t be erased. Studies have shown that suicide attempt rate for trans boys is approximately 20.9% higher than it is for trans girls, for example, and there are many similar statistics showing that trans men struggle in many ways and face a lot of discrimination, which of course deserves acknowledgement.

Experiencing discrimination and subsequent mental health struggles isn’t something that should be glossed over, yet there are many pseduo-progressive folks in the LGBTQ/feminist communities whose posts can sometimes come across as “men are bad and trans men are men so they’re bad!” When you point out that there are plenty of marginalized men out there who need support, people are quick to say “Well, I’ll support you for being trans but I don’t need to support you because you’re a man since men have privilege and therefore perpetuate oppression!” But in the case of trans men, supporting someone for being trans is the same thing as supporting them in being a man, you can’t separate the two.

And you can spend all day talking about in what situations transmasculine people have access to male privilege and in what conditions the privilege applies and so on, but that is a separate conversation from the point here, which is everyone deserves support and that includes trans men (and gay men, and disabled men, and Black men, and Indigenous men, and Asian men, and so on).

Things like body-shaming men for having neckbeards or small penises is seen as okay even though body-shaming women for having body hair or having small breasts is recognized as misogynistic. Sometimes folks respond by saying something like “you can’t oppress your oppressor” which... makes no sense in this context. Making people feel that their bodies are bad goes against the whole body-positive feminist movement, and that’s true no matter which people you think you’re targeting.

It’s also pretty obvious that being a man doesn’t inherently make you a bad person, but a lot of the hate and anger directed at men (whether it’s posted as a joke or said seriously by someone who went through trauma) can make it difficult for trans men to recognize that they’re men because they don’t want to become the thing everyone hates.

So how do we navigate allowing marginalized people to vent about groups who have privilege without causing collateral damage to other oppressed people?

Some people have tried to solve it by saying “I hate only cis men, not trans men!” but then of course you’ve created a new issue which is the arbitrary distinguishment between a cis man and a trans man. A trans man can be just as misogynistic as a cis man, and being trans doesn’t mean anything about who you are as a person, all it says is something about the gender you were assigned when you were born.

When you say that you only hate cis men, you’re implying that you don’t hate trans men because you think they’re different than cis men in some way in their thoughts/behavior/actions which is a transphobic assumption.

Or you’re saying you know that trans men and cis men can be identical in their thoughts/behavior/actions because they’re all men, so the reason you don’t hate trans men is ... ?? because they had certain genitals at birth (which they may not have anymore) ?? And that’s also transphobic because it’s saying you hate people solely because of their bodies which they can’t always control or change and implies having a particular type of body is morally wrong somehow or that your body makes you a bad person.

When someone makes a point of telling a trans man that they hate men, it’s sometimes a deliberate transphobic tactic used to make the person feel like having a male gender identity is inherently bad and makes you bad because it’s who you are, so the only way to become a good person is to not be a man which means not being transgender. And this is some how TERFs try and convince trans teens who were AFAB to re-identify as women instead of embracing being men. It’s hard to embrace being something that people have told you is problematic so people try to repress their feelings and ignore who they are.

Yet folks who don’t say “I hate all men” and instead say “the patriarchy sucks but it’s okay to be a man and not all men are bad” have found that statement controversial too.

Even that phrase, “not all men,” is a red flag because it’s primarily used by the “men’s rights” folks who try and defend their misogyny and push their anti-feminist agenda while denying the ways that they personally benefit from the system. All men benefit from the system of patriarchy if they are recognized as men by the system, but that doesn’t mean every individual man is personally responsible for actively perpetuating oppression or that every man is a bad person.

So when someone points out the ways that men are taught to hate themselves by people who are constantly bashing on men in hurtful ways, or the struggles that men face (even if they aren’t struggles unique to men), there are people who just freak out because they think that acknowledging this is in some way trying to say that men can’t be oppressors, or that pointing it out is somehow delegitimizing women’s experiences or part of a pushback against women’s rights because the MRAs have tried to stake a claim over the entire topic.

So any nuanced conversation about ways that we actually can support men and break down oppression and uplift marginalized folks has been silenced because this toxic group has dominated the conversation and nobody wants to accidentally seem like they support those things, so they don’t support anything that focuses on men at all.

Similarly, when someone posts about something that affects trans men people (usually cis people TBH) often will respond with “trans women have it worse with that issue, and everything else too!” which isn’t a helpful response because while it’s important to recognize the way that trans women face multiple axes of oppression, uplifting trans women in a way that makes it impossible for another marginalized group to have a conversation doesn’t help anyone. It’s okay for some posts to not be about or for trans women without starting to play the Oppression Olympics games because transmasculine people also need support and space and allowing transmasculine people to talk about their experiences doesn’t mean that transfeminine people are being ignored.

All that being said, I would argue that people definitely don’t always support trans women more than trans men, and I wouldn’t even say that people usually do so. It very much depends on the space you’re in. While I do believe that there are a lot of positivity/supportive posts about trans women on Tumblr, this is, in many ways, a direct reaction to counter the large volume of hate that’s also actively being directed at trans women on Tumblr. And while there are plenty of “love trans women!” posts, there is also an issue with the lack of practical resources and material support for trans women because most of the content does not go beyond the surface level heart-emoji type post.

So in what I’ve noticed on Tumblr specifically (as this varies depending on the platform you’re using and the space you’re in), there can be more vocal (aka performative) support for trans women but it mostly tends to focus on their identities saying they’re valid women and so on but doesn’t give them much information or material support or anything else that I would deem a useful resource, whereas there might be less support for trans men in terms of “gender identity positivity for being male” but there’s more practical resources and information that they can use to aid in their transition.

Again, whatever you do, don’t complain that transfeminine people have too much support- that’s not the same thing as saying that you’d like more support for trans men struggling with X issue.

And yes, while we do have many things in common, there are some differences in the struggles the community faces and the experiences we have, and it’s okay to want to talk with other folks who are going through the same thing. That doesn’t mean that you don’t care about transfeminine people or that you think they should have a smaller platform or something, it just means you’d like support for your identity and transition (which is wholly unrelated to how much support there is or isn’t available for them).

So if you are looking for more support for trans men and feel like you aren’t getting what you need in the online or IRL spaces you’re currently moving in, you should try finding the spaces that are meant to be supportive communities for trans men and join them, whether they’re specific blogs, Facebook groups, Discord servers, or in-person/on-Zoom support groups, and also do what you can to create the support you want to see for your community!

#Lee says #not really sure what to tag this as #transphobia #discourse #suicide m #Anonymous #trans #transgender #nonbinary #lgbtq #lgbt #transgender teen survival guide #transgenderteensurvivalguide #TTSG

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fairycosmos · 3 years

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men terrify me so much. i've sort of come to terms with the fact that i'll never be okay with liking them as anything more than an acquaintance, with an exception or two found in friends. a big part of it is definitely basing my self-worth on the perception others have of me, although i technically have no way of knowing what that is exactly. but, i hate my fragile self-worth especially in those moments when i'd be a witness to a comment made on some other girl and think to myself, wow, i wonder how much cruelty you're sparing me of right now simply because my back isn't facing you. and it hurts more than anything because like, it's not easy being in general, but being a woman is even harder, and my thoughts are sometimes also careless, but at the end of the day we're all trying our best and when that effort is stomped on by a couple of ignorant dude bros, i can't handle it. as much as i like being cynical, i want nothing but the best for every woman and men don't get to diminish that need for solace.

right?? i mean we're taught to perform for the male gaze 24/7 so it's no surprise that we derive our self worth from how well we think we're doing from their perspective. though it's probably healthier to try to see worth as something you're inherently born with that doesn't depend on any outside variable, therefore it can't be given or taken away. it just is. but anyway yeah absolutely - men make it so hard to love them. it is so tiring and disheartening. like you i probably wont engage with them like that anymore for the foreseeable. i totally feel you on hearing how they talk about other women and getting that awful feeling in the pit of your stomach and thinking like, this is how they see us all isn't it. this brutalised hyper sexual joke of a person. it's even worse bc trying to bring it up to them is like talking to a brick wall. they're already formulating an argument in their head the entire time you're talking instead of listening to you. because they can't deal with the very simple fact that we live in a patriarchal system 😐 the mere thought offends them and puts them on the defense. i also recognize internalized misogyny in myself too, but like you said we at least make the effort to learn to overcome it. i don't blame you at all for growing bored with it. i'm proud of you for being able to actually prioritize women and yourself honestly because like. we're so programmed to seek male validation, that even when we become aware of it our lives are still structured around it. i think it gets to a point where you just have to do what you can to protect your own peace at the very least

#anon

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bloody-wonder · 3 years

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U said u had lots to say on the topic of girls who become 'not like other girls' due to being ostracized by the more popular girls which they then try to distance themselves from, I'm curious what u had to say?

i have very mixed feelings about the whole “not like other girls” thing. nowadays people associate it exclusively with those outdated memes or distasteful ya tropes choosing to forget that these cringey online phenomena are the fallout of some harmful situations and expectations girls and young women still have to deal with irl. (sara z has an in-depth video essay on this topic which i highly recommend).

on paper, i very much agree that women should do whatever they want to, regardless of whether it is in accordance with the gender norms and expectations superimposed by the society, and that a person who’s against girls liking “girly things” is clearly in the wrong. but in day-to-day life it’s much more complicated than that. it’s true that we shouldn’t hate women for the choices they make but rather we should fight against the system that forces them to make some of those choices and then pits them against each other. but it’s also true that women, whose identity is, consciously or not, more in line with what the society expects women to be, often choose to ally themselves with the system instead of trying to fight it and risking losing the rewards (which often come in form of heteronormative “dream life” or some such). in the words of linda nochlin, the middle-class woman has a great deal more to lose than her chains.

speaking of ya, it looks like after the wave of heroines who were praised by their problematic love interests for being “not like other girls” while also having no close female friends came the backlash in the form of what i call the “not like other girls” conflict - a trope that tries to rectify the situation with hating on “girly girls” but completely fails to acknowledge the root of the problem. among the books i’ve recently read it’s featured most prominently in a lady's guide to petticoats and piracy by mackenzi lee.

(i’m going to explain with some mild spoilers so be warned)

the book is set in the 18th century so the main character felicity who is “not like other girls” and wants to become a doctor is completely miserable. bc of her gender the society in which she lives won’t let her follow her dreams. her best friend johanna who used to be “not like other girls” together with her when they were kids and dreamed of becoming an explorer now grew up to be very much “like other girls” and left felicity behind. the conflict between them escalates when johanna tells felicity her version of what happened: as she grew up she was still very much interested in exploring and being friends with felicity but she also became interested in traditionally “womanly things” and made friends with “other girls”, including the ones who had always mocked felicity, but she never left her behind - instead, it was felicity who started distancing herself to the point of ending their friendship. “why can’t i do both?”, asks johanna and in theory she’s completely right. the narrative certainly thinks she’s right as it makes the entire situation a step in felicity’s character development when she recognizes her internalized misogyny, apologizes, is forgiven and the focus of the story shifts to fighting the patriarchy with the means traditionally associated with femininity. what remains unexplored are felicity’s fears and reasons for distancing herself from johanna: while it’s not her friend’s fault that they live in a sexist society, the knowledge that when the push comes to shove she can easily blend in with it and leave felicity out in the cold doesn’t help their relationship either.

you might say, it’s not the 18th century anymore so the situation can’t be that grave. so let me end this with a personal example that bugs me a lot. i don’t wear make up, haven’t worn it since i was 14. now at 25 i honestly have no idea how to put it on, i’ve lost the skill completely and i don’t own any. in my daily life i don’t spare it a single thought, but in recent years i’ve been questioning more and more whether my academic and professional life would be more successful if my appearance was more “professional” - which for a woman means that she has to wear make up. maybe all those job interviews came to nothing at least partly bc i didn’t wear any. maybe it’s better to wear some next time, just to be sure. doesn’t sound like a big problem, right? except i don’t own any and tbh have no money to spare to buy it, i don’t know how to put it on and i have neither time nor desire to learn how. plus, i just fundamentally resent the idea that i have to do it just bc i am a woman. make up costs lots of money, putting it on and removing it is time-consuming, and when it’s on you can’t touch your face cause now it’s suddenly not a part of your body but a picture for other people to look at. given all of this, wearing make up shouldn’t be an obligation or a necessity and yet it is. i see many women both online and irl complain about it and i also see women say “it’s okay if you wear it for yourself or for fun”. but the problem is, we won’t make any progress with this until wearing make up isn’t expected of women anymore which won’t happen until we stop wearing it en masse, thereby eliminating the basis for this expectation - even those of us who like to wear it. or think that they like it.

otherwise it’s just half of us stepping back into the ranks and blending in while the other half is left out in the cold.

#asks #personal tag #not like other girls #being shamed for liking color pink or romance novels sure feels bad #but can it really compare to being systematically opressed bc of your failure to comform #anyways #ik it's painfully obvious that i'm biased towards the girls who *aren't like other girls*#so i just wanted to reiterate that i don't think anyone deserves being judges for their interests or self-presentation #but it also frustrates me that the online discourse has shifted in favor of this *centrism*#*whatever we look like we are the same bc we are women and so we have common goals and common plights*#idk i sure don't have the same goals with the kind of middle class karen nochlin is talking about #and putting me and her into the same box just cause we are women #idk #smells of radfem rhetoric to me #okay lets stop here before i say something truly offensive

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moontheoretist · 3 years

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Today's episode of Ikebukuro West Gate Park - the anime which tackles various social issues of immigration, racism, drugs - was especially important, because it raised the issues which single mothers face in society like Japan. I dare say that even in my own country being a single mother is still looked upon even though there is as many single parent households now as there is the ones with two parents present. Statistics went up, but people still look down on people, especially women who raise children alone. Those comments which were shown in the episode reeked of misogyny and sexism of people who do not understand that women most of the time do not even have a choice. That there is often no access to abortion or contraception. That woman can be stopped by the law itself from "not having children" or that she may choose to have the kid and her choice should be respected, and she should be supported by the government, especially if she was in a relationship and partner just run away. They don’t understand that men are often the cause of the single parenting in the case of single mothers for various reasons and that blaming a woman for having a child or not having time to pay attention 24/7 and protect the child from harm, because she needs time for herself is cruel and short-sighted. Those people do not know how it is to be a single parent. I do not know either, but I am at least a child of a single parent just like Makoto, so I know how it looks like. How parent has to depend on help from other people to provide oversight and protection for a kid and even then the accidents may happen. Blaming a woman is always easier for those assholes though. I am completely with Kyouichi on this. Let's beat them all up for good measure if they cannot listen to reason.

Japan and a lot of other countries has a raging issues with misogyny and lack of understanding of the situation of a woman and it needs proper attention, so I am happy that this anime decided to show this issue along the other ones it portrays. I don't exactly know how modern Japan looks, but there are things like those which you just know exist and you just know they are the issue in the society in which rape culture was so prevalent that society needed to create a separate cart for women in train to protect them from harassment and assault.

I like how they condemned guys who use women and force them into the sex industry, but I dunno what to think about the slight insinuation that working in sex industry is bad. I am not really sure, but I dunno if Makoto was scolded because he didn't understand how bad being forced into sex industry was or because he said that sex industry is a legitimate job. It's true that men and women look at the sex industry differently, but it's purely social thing, not something which is an actual fact, but something which is taught like that to people. We are taught to look at certain things in certain way and we most often than not are taught that sex industry is the worst of the worst things someone may do, even if they enjoy doing it and it was thir choice all along. Men in the meantime often profit and use this service, so they look at it from the perspective of potential clients who are taught the social stigma. They would never date the prostitute, because "she is used goods" to those men, but they would still use the service if they want and can afford it, because it was made for them. Of course it is not only industry for men, there are also men who work in sex industry and provide services for customers regardless of gender, but you know what I mean.

Outside of my mixed feelings about sex industry topic, I like that they showed how abuse is born. That more often than not abuse comes out of the place of frustration and abandonment. Comes from a human being side of ourselves which just cannot take the world anymore and uses violence to cope. Nobody says that hitting a child is good, because of course it aren't, no matter your reason. But understanding of the abuse is important. Because abusers aren't always a vile evil super villains who trive when they hurt others and recognizing that they are people who cope badly with their own life situation and helping them is an important way in which we actually dismantle and depower the abuse. More often than not you won't stop the abuse by just condemning the person and leaving them to their own devices, because "they deserve this for what they did". Something like that will only contribute to them perpetuating the cycle of abuse, because nobody helped them to stop it in the first place. Nobody showed them that there is other way. And I am not saying this to justify abusers. Of course not. Nobody even justified what Yui did. Explaining why she did what she did isn't the same as excusing or justifying. It's just showing understanding of a the suffering of the human being and the abuse born out of helplessness.

There is nobody else than a child of a single mother who can understand that if they weren’t there their parent may have better life. It hurts to think about it, especially if it was told to your face by that very parent, but understanding doesn’t mean forgiveness. It doesn’t mean that your abuse wasn’t real or that you owe your parent something for going through all of that. It just means that you recognize the issue and know that it was not only their doing, that it was the fault of the system in which you were born and that something must be changed. That there has to be something put into place to help people in this situation.

#half of the pictures in this post don't fucking wanna get saved #i dunno how many times I added the same screenshots over and over again #stupid tumblr #piece of shit #ikebukuro west gate park #ikebukuro west gate park spoilers

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miggydiaz · 3 years

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for the salty ask: 3, 7, 10, 11, 15, 16, 19, 22, 23, 24, 25 and 27 for spn

I had to do this one today because I have a LOT of Supernatural feelings and so a lot of these are even longer than my CK one. But thanks for the ask @wonderwolfballoon!

UNPOPULAR SUPERNATURAL OPINIONS AHOY: INCLUDES ANTI-DESTIEL SENTIMENTS AND OTHER UNSAVORY ELEMENTS

3. Have you ever unfollowed someone over a fandom opinion? 100000000% I have unfollowed someone over a fandom opinion in the SPN fandom. SPN was the fandom that taught me to make JUDICIOUS use of the blocking feature tumblr offers in order to curate my experience. I would actually encourage anyone and everyone to use the blocking feature if they disagree with people. Honestly, we don’t owe anyone our time or energy, especially on the internet! It is much healthier than sending or responding to hate, IMO. 7. Is there anything you used to like but can’t stand now?* This is actually a hard one for me to answer, so let me start by saying -- I have not seen a SINGLE episode since 9x05? I think? Whichever episode was the Dr. Deanlittle one where he talks to animals. I just couldn’t do it anymore. I LOVE LOVE LOVE the first 5 seasons, and they are all I watch anymore and I pretend nothing else exists after that (except The French Mistake because that episode is hilarious). But uh... I guess the simple answer is when I was originally watching it, I really loved Dean. He was brash, snarky, rough around the edges... but kind of soft in a I’m too toxically masculine to deal with my softness sort of way that I love seeing characters grow out of as they mature. But when I go back and rewatch now, much older than I was in 2006 when I first started watching, I see how awful a lot of his older behavior truly was. I still love Dean, and I will be a Dean girl until I die probably, but sometimes you gotta remind yourself that your faves have been problematic in the past so you don’t put them up on fandom constructed pedestals.

10. Most disliked arc? Why? AND AS A BONUS, MY ANSWER to 11. Is there an unpopular character you like that the fandom doesn’t? Why? I could write a literal essay about all of the problems I have with the later seasons (the ones I watched, which encompasses 6, 7, 8, and a few episodes of 9). But by far and away, the thing I hated most, was the Men of Letters.

Okay, this is where I am going to recognize my love of certain characters is at FUNDAMENTAL ODDS with how that character develops later and what history and background we get later on them. I RECOGNIZE this character is problematic, and I would NEVER STAND for his shit IRL, but fiction is complicated and nuanced, and fantastic circumstances do not make for normal behaviors. That being said, with all warnings I could possibly give, and with the full understanding that what I am about to say is basically fandom blasphemy of the highest order...

I like John Winchester’s character.

I know, I know. If you wanna stop reading and block me now, you are free to do that. I will not hold it against you. I am not about to apologize for anything he has done. I just need to contextualize why I have such an issue with the MOL storyline and it starts with the simple fact that I liked John Winchester as he was originally presented.

To me, and with the full understanding that I am answering this from the perspective of someone who DOES NOT regard anything past season 5 as personal canon, John Winchester is the perfect example of a truly complicated character. Here’s a parent who, if we take the pilot and the original s2 Djinn episodes at face value, could have been a great parent, who then got shoved into a fantastically impossible situation and made terrible choices that he thought were necessary in order to keep himself and his sons safe. That does not EXCUSE the heaps of abuse that he piled onto Dean in any way. We know John and Mary didn’t have a great marriage. But we also know from the pilot that John was at least a caring and present father, mostly, for the 4 years he got to parent in a normal world, and that if Mary had lived, John would’ve been a softball playing dad who raised his kids and had a loving marriage with his wife. (Again, I need to reiterate, I did not watch anything past the early episodes of s9. If there is later canon that negates this, I do not know about it, nor do I want to because I don’t think of anything past 5 as canon) This is all important to me because these things emphasize that John was “NORMAL”. He was a mechanic, from a family of mechanics, whose father didn’t bail on him (a man in the episode where Dean is transported back in time to Lawrence tells John to ‘say hi to your old man for me’ or something to that effect). He was just a midwestern dude. Giving John Winchester a fantastical background through this Men of Letters bullshit made me SO MAD. First of all, I hate when later canon negates previous canon. I cannon TELL you how much I hate it. And the later seasons of Supernatural are riddled with stuff that doesn’t make any damn sense in the context of original, Kripke written canon, which is exactly why I stopped watching. That’s not ~Evolution of the show.~ That’s conveniently forgetting stuff that made your show and its premise so successful to begin with in order to keep filming episodes so you can keep making money. It’s the sacrifice of art for capitalism and yes I know this is a stupid TV show but as a writer myself it PISSES ME OFF.

/rant

ALSO, the idea that this toxically masculine family was set on this path by Heaven, and inherited this curse that put them on this path from their mother was such a good plot twist in its heyday. We spent four seasons thinking of Mary Winchester as a victim of circumstance, whose fate could not have been avoided because she was the mother to Sam, who is effectively cursed. And then, we learn that its BECAUSE of Mary that this ball even got rolling in the first place. IDK if you were around for that time in the fandom but at least in my circle, this was a big fucking deal. There had been so much (rightful) discourse about John before this, and what kind of parent he was, that Mary became almost deified in the same way Dean deifies her. And then we find out that this whole story gets set in motion by a decision she made because this was the life she found herself in. This was great. It was interesting. And even though the MOL doesn’t negate any of this, it does give John this weirdly fantastical that isn’t necessary. Let this guy be just some Joe Schmoe who fell in love with a kick ass hunter and had no idea any of this even existed. Let Mary and her want to be ‘normal’ be a complicated moral choice that fundamentally altered the paths of her husband and sons. It’s good tv!

Also, I fucking hate the bunker. The best episodes are Dean and Sam having moments in the car, or while in motel rooms on their cases, or whatever. I don’t mind them having a home base. I’m fine with that. But if a building could ever be a Mary Sue character, the bunker is it. I hate all of the MOL storyline, starting with this place.

I may not even tag this as Supernatural, I don’t need angry later season stans in my inbox.

15. Unpopular opinion about the manga/show?

There’s nothing good about anything that happened after season 6. It’s all a bunch of retconning bullshit. Season 6 had its moments where it was interesting, so I cut it a little bit of slack, but as far as I’m concerned, the show ended in season 5. I’m not sure that’s necessarily unpopular, but it does feel that way on tumblr, so.

16. If you could change anything in the show, what would you change?

Aside from ending it in season 5?

Oooh, I’m about to blaspheme again. I am definitely not tagging this as Supernatural.

I would never have introduced Castiel, and I would’ve given that entire storyline to Anna. Or, alternatively, I would’ve flipped their story lines.

Look, for whatever it’s worth... I agree with the idea that Dean Winchester is a repressed bisexual. His Dr. Sexy love, the entire storyline with Benny in season 8, etc. I just don’t think he feels romantically about Castiel. And like, that’s okay! Just because you’re not into someone who is into you doesn’t mean you owe them a relationship or anything, no matter what the fandom thinks.

But I also think Dean has a big problem when it comes to women. Again, obviously later on in the series, Dean shifts and Charlie happens and Claire Novak and I know all of these things from gifs okay, context is not applicable here because I have none. But early on, Dean struggles A LOT with thinking of women as A) capable and B) trustworthy. He exists in a perpetual state of identifying women along the Madonna/Whore binary. Even Jo, however you feel about her, and to be clear, I loved Jo, but he doesn’t stop thinking of her really as a kid until they’re about to shoot the devil. Up until then, he’s genuinely surprised Ellen lets her out of the damn house.

Giving him a strong, capable woman who rebels against Heaven for HIM would have fundamentally altered Dean’s perceptions of women much earlier on than we get and would have forced him to examine some of that misogyny head on.

Dean has no problems trusting men. This is why the entire Gordon fiasco happens, right? It was less work for him to trust Castiel because Castiel is the inverse of Ruby. Angel to her Demon. Angels and demons don’t really have genders, but for the sake of presentation of vessels, man to her woman. Not even getting me started on the problematic parts of having significant demons mostly symbolized by women (Meg, Ruby, Lilith) and having significant angels mostly represented by Men (Castiel, Michael, Lucifer, Zachariah, Gabriel, Raphael), and how that ties into the idea of Original Sin and yada yada, but just like it’s interesting to have Mary and her decisions be the catalyst for the story, it’s interesting to have this badass warrior angel in Anna who marches down to Hell to yank Dean out, and through her interactions with him, decide to rebel against the ultimate patriarchy, while Dean gets an equally strong female counterpart to Sam’s Ruby, a woman for all intents and purposes that he respects as a soldier and an ally and not just a potential piece of ass.

Also, Castiel fans being literally unbearable is why I left the fandom. Nothing against Misha or anything, and not even anything against Cas as a character (who I very much enjoyed in seasons 4 and 5), but his fans have always been the worst and they try to insert him into everything.

19. What is the one thing you hate most about your fandom?

Castiel/Destiel fans, which even though I also hated the direction the show was going, drove me out of the fandom. Not like, personally or directly, but just the sheer mental hoops they had to jump through in order to make their ship work and I just got tired of seeing all of the contrived meta on my dash. Oh, and the rampant misogyny that came out of those early Castiel fans. I didn’t appreciate it from the Wincest corner, and I definitely didn’t appreciate it from the fans of the new guy. Gross.

22. Popular character you hate?

Oof. I don’t know. I don’t really hate Castiel, because again, I liked him a lot in seasons 4 and 5. Even 6 was interesting, even if I don’t regard it as my own personal show canon. I don’t think there was a popular character in those first five seasons I ever really hated. I didn’t fundamentally hate a character at all until the MOL stuff came around. Um. Yeah, I don’t really have an answer for this.

23. Unpopular character you love?

Pretty much every female character ever. Jo, Ellen, Ruby, Meg... although Meg became more popular as the series went on, Anna. Um. OH, BELA. Bela ESPECIALLY, I recently rewatched season 3 and I cannot emphasize how MUCH I love Bela. She was the best purely human foil ever. Bela is hands down the character I love most that the fandom had frothing at the mouth hatred for. It doesn’t help that I legitimately think Lauren Cohan is one of the most beautiful women on the planet. But seriously, Bela. Hands down.

24. Would you recommend XXX to a friend? Why or why not?

I have! Many of times, and ALWAYS WITH THE CAVEAT to stop at the end of season 5. Not a single one of them has listened to me and almost all of them came to me at the end of the finale and were like WHY DID I WASTE SO MUCH TIME, and I don’t want to say I told them so, but like, I explicitly in neon colored text once told them so, so like, idk what to tell them. But yes! I think if someone is interested in some classic mystery television that has an overarching theme of family and forgiveness and striking out against the boxes that life tries to put us all into, SPN is a great show. But only the first 5 seasons. Also, be prepared for some thematically problematic parts of the show because there’s a lot of cishet toxic masculinity in those early seasons, and we should examine our media critically. There’s also a lot of good though too, and IMO, the good outweighs the bad.

25. How would you end XXX/Would you change the ending of XXX?

I would’ve ended it at season 5. I would’ve had Sam escape the pit and seen him standing under the street lamp, but then I would’ve had him walking away to leave Dean with Lisa (btw, side note, I DIDN’T like Lisa because I don’t think Dean would ever be truly happy with someone completely outside the life). Not because Sam doesn’t love his brother, but because he *does* love his brother, and because he would want Dean to be happy, even though Dean and Sam’s ideas of what makes the other happy have always been a little bit screwed up.. but that’s a different story.

27. Least shippable character?

Probably Zachariah. God, could you imagine? And... maybe Alastair, but I’m sure there are fics out there that I do not want to think about.

#wonderwolfballoon #I cannot for the sake of my own sanity tag this #I don't need angry SPN fans coming at me #I hope the bold text at the top helps people to understand what's behind the cut

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brutal-feminist · 4 years

Text

You know that there will be better times when you see even aces turn into gc radfems.

More and more lesbian and bi asexuals are joining in, I'm seeing it mostly on twitter.

Actual SSA people, esp women, are tired of this bs.

In the end being asexual changes only *how* you experience your attraction (if you're not aroace), but can't turn a homosexual into something else. This means that het aces have more in common with non-ace het people than gay aces.

Asexuality isn't a modifier only when it is accompanied by aromanticism and I could notice the differences between the various experiences of asexual people back when I used to be a libfem.

On twitter I'm now friends with a lesbian ace, a bi ace and a black het ace (she doesn't claim to be lgbt) who are all radfems.

Asexuality is back to its original purpose as a label for lack of attraction and not as a prop for transactivism.

This is also what's happening with many homosexual/bisexual trans men: most of them don't share all of the gc/radfem views but are starting to address the misogyny of the movement that claims to fight for their rights and recognize the many fallacies in what the qu*er theory is claiming.

Things are changing, many of the people who are being discriminated against on the basis of biology (women and gay/bi people because of their SSA) aren't in denial anymore.

The brainwash isn't working as better as before.

So please, my dear sisters, keep fighting! Your efforts aren't vain. Keep spreading information and fighting against misogyny and homophobia! ❤️

#I hope that this message will be read in the positive tone I meant it to be #I wanna spread some hope esp for radfems in uk/canada/usa #You girls have it really rough because of transactivism #Terf safe #terf please interact #terf please touch #Radical feminism #Radfem safe #radfem positivity #radfem please touch #radfem please interact

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reynesofcastamere · 4 years

Text

Splintered Perspective [β]

(A/N: For reference, any fics I write that aren’t related to my main series will be marked with [ β ] in the title. I may just have to make a masterpost to organize these at some point. Anyway,the prompt for this was: ‘How Rex or some other person from Ahsoka’s past would react to her being enemies with benefits or in a relationship with Maul.’ I decided to go with multiple POVs for the fun of it. And so I didn’t break myself with The Sad. Poor Rex T_T. Perspectives are not in chronological order. Mentions of past Ahsoka/Barriss. Warnings for dehumanization, mentions of torture, death, violence, some ableism and possible misogyny.(Maybe? Your mileage may vary.) Unbeta’d. ) Being one with the Force is...not exactly what she had been taught to expect. Barriss Offee is part of everything, all at once. Those in the Light, living and dead, she is all of them, and yet still herself, in a manner of speaking . Time is no longer such a rigid concept, nor is there any particular sense of urgency. What has happened was meant to be, and the future...Is forever shifting, ripples overlapping in a still pool. Which is why it comes as such a surprise when she can feel Master Plo’s disapproval like a storm on the edge of breaking. At first, she cannot determine what has woken his ire, but slowly the images come into focus. Ahsoka.

Barriss no longer possesses a heart, and yet she cannot deny the lance of bittersweet pain through her chest. There is relief that her friend is still alive, but also regret and something bordering on envy. A feeling that only sharpens when she notices the tattooed Zabrak that Ahsoka currently has pinned down. Wait. She knows him. Not personally, but...He is a Sith, a murderer, a monster. Why is Ahsoka-brash, kind, clever person that she is- smiling at him? It is possible that she is misinterpreting this. Both of them appear rather bruised and a touch bloody, and the lack of lightsabres doesn’t mean-She misses the words exchanged between the pair of them, but...The kiss is unmistakeably passionate, bordering on obscene as the Force crackles around them. Somehow, this is not the worst of it. When they part for air, there is a...look, shared between their eyes, and Barriss experiences true dread. Long ago, she and Ahsoka had-been close. Intimately so. As much as anyone could be, following the Order’s mandate that attachment was forbidden. She’d harboured dreams then, of maybe and one day...But no. Too much had happened, and her rosy illusions had been cruelly shattered. Somehow, watching this unfold hurts worse. Because there is something genuine beneath the crude physical attraction on display. Master Plo does not say a word, but his righteous indignation is so strong that it is a miracle he does not physically manifest in front of them.

Her dearest companion does not belong in the Dark, with this...creature trapping her in his coils, dripping venom into her thoughts. Barriss can only hope Ahsoka will extricate herself before it is too late.

=====

The failed apprentice. A wretched vermin who simply refuses to die. Not for much longer. Darth Vader’s gaze narrows as he reviews the incident reports. A decade of nothing but the occasional annoyance and whispers from the dregs of the galaxy, and only now does Maul scurry out from beneath whatever rock he has been sheltering under. Why? There is no grand plan, no great advantage in breaking into an Imperial prison. Especially one that contains such...unimportant occupants. Then again...The swathe of carnage and destruction left behind had been almost a direct path between the Dathomirian’s entry point and the interrogation chambers. Not a calculated assault, but an act of rage and desperation. Vader had felt it at the time, how the Dark Side had howled and torn at itself like a half-crazed beast. And then there was the fate of the interrogator: Hands cut off, abdominal perforation, shattered jaw,and eyes torn from their sockets. He had suffered a great deal, however briefly. As for the prisoner with him- Records list a female Togruta, mid-to-late twenties, with blue eyes and orange skin. Possibly Force sensitive, but difficult to determine due to her physical state upon capture. The prisoner hadn’t been in possession of anything resembling lightsabres, but had been carrying a wealth of assorted small armaments. It couldn’t be. She died back when...We found her sabres among the graves. Anakin Skywalker is long dead, but sometimes his ghost is loud enough to be heard over the multitudes that inhabit Vader’s hulking, monstrous shell.

Graves required someone to dig them first. Which meant that either some unknown individuals had come along and taken pity on a multitude of strangers...Or that the survivours had done the work themselves. Yet, if Ahsoka Tano lives, and was temporarily imprisoned, it still does not explain the identity or methods of her unlikely rescuer. She was sent to capture him on Mandalore, why would Snips-? Why did she leave us? We needed her when Padme- The room around him warps and buckles in a single, furious moment of clarity. She chose that...animal. That thing, Oh, but she’d been richly rewarded, hadn’t she? One only had to look at the risks her...protector had taken just to secure her freedom. Approval and utter disgust war within him as he rises. So be it. Sentiment has already destroyed them, and it will be his pleasure to finish a task that should have been resolved long ago. Traitors to the Empire must all be purged.

===== Rex should probably be angry. Ahsoka is certainly looking at him like a shiny expecting a stern lecture for breaking regs. Instead he just feels...tired. He can’t be mad at her, not really. Maybe if he’d stuck around longer or managed to make contact more often, this wouldn’t have happened. Or maybe it would have. Maker knows his trio of Jedi could never stay out of trouble for long, and that war makes for strange alliances and even stranger...pairings. Still, he has to ask, because he knows her, knows the depths of love and compassion that make her who she is, beneath the layers of soldier and spy.

“Is it serious?” Ahsoka fidgets with her lekku a bit. “I don’t know.” A long pause as she inhales. “It keeps happening, and...I want to murder him half the time, Rex. The problem is that he likes it.” The expression on her face perfectly sums up her opinion on that little tidbit of info. He might have laughed, under different circumstances. Instead, he takes her hands in his. “We’ve known each other for a long time. I might not understand why you’re doing this, or how it works-” He absolutely does not need to know the mechanics, as there are not enough drugs or alcohol in the galaxy to purge the associated mental images. “-but I trust your judgement. And your ability to slice his horns off and hang him from his ears over a pit of rathtars if he pushes you too far.” Rex grins, silently offering to be her backup should that ever happen. Kind of a surprise it hasn’t already, since Maul never karking shuts up and Ahsoka’s patience has a set limit for windbags. Her eyes are wet when she hugs him tightly. “You’ll be the first person I call, Captain. And I’m sorry.” He knows she’s not just apologizing for this, not with their history. “I’m sorry too, Commander.” Rex murmurs, hugging her back. They can stay like this for a while longer. Her superiors are just going to have to wait. He might not be such a ‘good’ soldier anymore, but he knows damned well how to be a good friend. And that’s what they both need, more than anything. People that will survive the disaster long enough to see it end, and come out smiling.

=====

“When I warned that you might be tempted by the Dark Side, I did not expect it to be quite so literal.”

“Master.” “Then again, I suppose there is a certain appeal. Ventress was certainly a...passionate opponent. Lovely sense of humour, too. I suppose you don’t get much of that with your-No, I suppose you are the better half in this equation.” “Master Kenobi.” “Come now, we haven’t spoken in ages, surely you can indulge your grand-master’s curiousity.” “You did not break comm silence after years of letting everyone think you were dead just to call me about my sex life.” “Well, no, but it is an unexpected bonus. How does that work, exactly?” “It sounds like you’re angling for a demonstration.” “Oh Maker, no. I’m not that eager to find out.” “Good, because I don’t particularly feel like dealing with him if he decides to drop everything just to hunt you down.” “Ah. He’s...still upset about that, is he?” “You have no idea.” “Well then. To business. And Ahsoka?” “Yes, Master?” “It is good to hear your voice again. Do take care of yourselves.” “You too, Master Kenobi. And don’t worry, we’ll be fine.”

“One last question: When should I expect great-grand-padawans?”

“OBI-WAN!!!!” (A/N: Yes, I had to end with levity. Especially considering the characters involved. To clarify, Anakin isn’t upset because he has any sort of romantic inclination towards Ahsoka. It’s general Darksider possessiveness/jealousy mixed in with a lot of anger and some guilt. Looking after Ahsoka’s wellbeing was ‘his’ job, so far as he’s concerned. And now it’s apparently been usurped by That One Asshole. Also, if anyone’s going to recognize that level of...obsessive regard, it’s gonna be the OG Skywalker Drama King. Many thanks to the anonymous person who requested this, both for the prompt and your compliments. Cheers!)

#maulsoka #Plo Koon Greatly Disapproves of Maul's BS #sadly Bariss and the Seventh Sister are not the same person #that would have been tragically awesome though #Rex is The BestTM #Obi-Wan has to joke about this in order to avoid Trauma #And possibly a heart attack #Anakin is very salty but also missing the point

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warmbeebosoftbeebo · 3 years

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I just began listening to Kala’s podcast from last week. It was q+a style and Z*ck was asking her the questions. The topic turned to social media and how toxic it can be. Z*ck said he’s no longer on social media and that there is a “smaller group of people who are overly negative and overly hateful.” Kala chimed in and said how social media used to be a fun outlet for her but now has become a “weird, hateful place” that makes her mad. (timestamp @ 11:22 / Founders Q+A / Nov. 23) Well did they think social media was going to be rainbows and butterflies after 20+ women accused him of sexual harassment?! Do you think this is there way of giving the middle finger to all of the drama surrounding the accusations? That’s what I perceived it as just by the tone of their voices. Also, at the beginning of the podcast Zack said he was hanging out with Panic’s manager and helping him with a project for a friend. So he is spending time with the rest of the panic team. We know he’s still friends w/B. It infuriates me how someone could be accused and proven in some cases of sexual harassment and not have any consequences. Yes he won’t be around fans anymore but did he even learn a lesson if B and the people around him treat him like nothing happened.

(this is rather jumbled, but i wanted to respond before spring rolled around)

i listened to it and the other ones with zack (unless there’s one with him from the last couple weeks, in which case i missed that one). is there a masterlist of what was said about zack? there’s been several accusations, but i don’t think it’s been anywhere close to 20 women for sexual harassment, and there was only one accusing him of anything physical/sexual assault (which gives me pause, because it’s the only one, and anonymous, whereas there’s patterns, corroboration, etc with the non-physical ones. i will say it says something that breezy found the sexual assault of the 13 year old plausible. that’s how awful she found him. that’s how awful her experiences with him were. him doing that was in line with her experiences with him. maybe they reflect “jokes” he made, for example.)

i can understand kala being upset; i honestly feel bad for her. especially considering how some people commented on her and her dog’s instagram going on about what trash zack was, that she should leave him, etc. but it’s kind of ironic for her to be talking about trauma, sexual assault, etc on her podcast but... she didn’t seem.. prepared or equipped to deal with this. i do like what she said about cancel culture, but it does leave me wondering what she’s read/seen. (obviously fandom twitter in particular is a dumpster fire but the whole fire zack hall thing started off mostly serious, honest, a lot less anonymous, little rumour mongering, etc and therefore, a lot more credible than what followed.)

it is of course a lot harder when it’s a man you love who’s accused of certain things and definitely did other things that are sexually harassive, unethical, misogynist, and/or pornographic. most find it easy to say “death to rapists” “believe victims” and whatnot until it hits close to home (husband, lover, brother, father...). especially when (and i’ve said this before) the man isn’t a monster (breezy and dallon probably disagree).

i don’t think he is. this isn’t a marilyn manson, harvey weinstein, r kelly, etc situation. (there’s no “fixing” those men, they won’t change, and i’m prepared to call those men and their ilk sadistic, psychopathic, narcissistic, punishing, etc and irredeemable. won’t be upset to hear that they died. i’d even say if a victim killed them, they should damn well get a fucking medal and a parade.)

this isn’t about the extremes of male sexual behavior and ethics, it’s about the normal. pretty much everything (except zack fetishizing people with amputated limbs that breezy alleged), barring touching the 13 year old, alleged and proven is completely within the realm of normal male behaviour. (and even men assaulting adolescent girls is a lot more common and normal than we think. even then, these are mostly normal guys, not diagnosable as psychopathic or “pedophilic.”) if he’s a monster, frankly so are most men (and some women).

that includes those outraged posters with uncles, dads, brothers, boyfriends...you probably love men and teen boys who have done the same kind of things. they likely even have women who are so hurt and disturbed by their actions they are where breezy was on him. i wonder what she’s read. has she read them all? has she read at least the named (breezy, ian, ian’s ex ren, dallon) and sourced allegations (links to his twitter)?

i wish things (behind the scenes/with panic, with b, with breezy, ian, dallon...) would come out, even if on the level of it being handled “in house”. it honestly being recognized, investigated, and handled. obviously, it done privately, we won’t know, but there’s obviously a lot that’s not been done. breezy isn’t making shit up for “outrage points” or “victim points” or whatever. there’s good reasons she thinks as she does about him. and i bet she’s angry and bewildered that brendon doesn’t see it, or why the fact that it is within the realm of normal male behavior provides cover for it.

the more common something is, the harder it is to see as wrong (harassment, misogyny, demeaning, etc). the more it is actually aligned with mainstream culture, masculinity and male sexuality, the more difficult it is to see the problem. because if one sees the problem, one sees most of male culture/sexuality/bonding/etc as a problem, most men as a problem. it involves looking at himself, his other friends, his male family members... too. looking at jokes he laughed at, jokes he cracked. what he and other men watch as humour, as porn. and so on.

#zack hall #brendon urie

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