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neopronouns-in-action · 9 months

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Neopronouns in Action #058: The Proper Reaction

Neopronouns: ay/li/yen/alienself which follow the same rules as

Replace he with ay

Replace him with li

Replace his with yen

Replace himself with alienself

EX:

"He is going to adopt a new puppy soon, as soon as he gets a fence set up around his yard so the puppy can go outside without him having to walk it. His uncle is going to help set up the fence, since he has a set of power tools he’s letting him use, since he lost his. He's going to buy toys and train the puppy himself.”

Becomes:

"Ay is going to adopt a new puppy soon, as soon as ay gets a fence set up around yen yard so the puppy can go outside without li having to walk it. Yen uncle is going to help set up the fence, since he has a set of power tools he’s letting li use, since ay lost yen. Ay's going to buy toys and train the puppy alienself.”

= = =

Marilan Dexter carefully sat down in its chair, looking across the desk at its youngest employee in what it hoped ay could tell was genuine concern. “Alright, Alex, what did you want to tell me?” it asked, trying to keep its tone gentle. Ay was clearly upset about something.

Alex had gotten to work fifteen minutes before ay was due to start, which was normal for li (ay rode yen bike all year round, and spent the extra time either cooling off or warming up in the break room), but unlike normal, ay'd approached Marilan before clocking in.

Alex knew the rules – no talking about work until you were on the clock, because talking about work was a type of work, – but ay'd insisted it was important, and couldn't wait.

So Marilan had taken careful note of the time, subtracted a minute, and would make sure to go into the portal after the meeting was over to adjust Alex's timecard so ay'd get paid for whatever discussion they were about to have.

Even if ay was about to quit.

Ay certainly looked upset enough that that might be what ay was here to say.

For a few moments, they sat together in tense, awkward silence, Alex looking down at yen feet or hands under the desk instead of at Marilan. Ay was holding yen cane in yen hands, spinning it around in a circle so that the silver tag on the wrist strap gleamed in the light.

Almost half a minute passed in silence, and Marilan began to wonder if Alex was going to say anything at all. Ay was only sixteen, and had been so nervous the first few weeks on the job. But ay was a fast learner, and Marilan was proud of how much ay'd learned and progressed in the four months since ay'd started.

Being a cashier wasn't easy, especially when you were just a kid. Marilan did its best to discourage the sort of customers that would be rude to its workers, but it couldn't be everywhere at once, and sometimes tourists blew in from out of town on their way to the bigger city that had no respect for the working class, including kids.

There'd been one horrible incident of a woman, of course wearing a De Santis shirt, actually, literally shouting in Alex's face about how yen pronoun pin was an abomination and a violation of her freedom of speech and religious freedom, and ay was clearly too lazy to deserve a job if ay wouldn't even stand to ring up her groceries, and too many other things too horrible to repeat. It had taken all of Marilan's considerable willpower not to start throwing fists to get her out of the store.

But that had been last month, and as far a Marilan knew, nothing else like that had happened. The woman had been permanently banned from the store, and Marilan had called up the road to warn Tori and Tarea.

It had made sure that all its workers knew they could always come to it with any problems they had. It was glad that Alex had trusted it enough to ask to talk, even if ay wasn't quite ready to say anything just yet.

Suddenly remembering that it'd forgotten to offer li anything from the goodie drawer, Marilan leaned to the side slightly and pulled open the large drawer on the left, and pulled out the basket of stress balls and fidget toys, and the little divided plastic pail of various chocolates and other candies. “Help yourself.” It said, pushing both across the desk towards Alex.

A lot of workers, especially young ones, always assumed that they were in trouble any time they were called into the office, which could cause them a lot of unnecessary stress. To help convince them that they weren't going to be fired or screamed at every time it wanted to talk to them about their schedule or pass along customer compliments, Marilan had started, over thirty years ago, keeping a drawer of “goodies” in its desk, and every time a worker came into the office, they got some to take home.

It had first started with just small candies, but then Marilan had taken up knitting, and hand-made hacky sacks, stress balls, bracelets, and other simple items joined the collection. Then fidget toys started becoming popular, and it added those too.

The plan worked. Most workers, after their first few days on the job of getting used to it, were happy to enter its office instead of stressed out and panicking wondering what they'd done wrong.

And it knew it was working, because as soon as the containers were within yen reach, Alex's hand shot out and grabbed one of the stress balls and whole a handful of Jolly Ranchers.

Marilan always did everything it could to make it clear that when it offered its workers things, they could take as many as they wanted. It bought the hard candies in bulk online, and made most of the stress balls itself, knitting them with the cotton and wool yarn Amos gave it every year, and filling them with canna seeds, cotton, foam, or whatever material would produce the texture and weight it was looking for.

There were a few more moments of silence, broken only by the sound of plastic crinkling as Alex unwrapped the jolly rancher and threw it into yen mouth, then the soft rattle of popcorn kernels as ay began tossing the hacky sack from hand to hand under the table.

It was done in the colors of progress trans pride flag, with zig-zagging stripes, and was a bit larger and heavier than Marilan usually made them. Alex didn't seem to mind, though.

Finally, ay said, still throwing the ball from hand to hand, rather violently, “I don't want to work the same shifts as Jace anymore.”

Ay said it to the ground, still not looking up at Marilan. Normally, Marilan was the one who didn't want to make eye contact.

As soon as yen words registered, Marilan sat up straighter, alarmed and instantaneously angry, like a flip had been switched. “What happened?” It tried to keep the anger out of its voice though. It didn't want Alex thinking it was mad at li.

Jace was in his late thirties, and had just started his job here two weeks ago after moving to town from out of state.

Jace and Alex were both meant to be on the afternoon shift for today.

A better question besides 'What happened', might also be: “Do you need to call off for your shift today? You've still got almost two week's worth of paid leave you can use if you need to.”

Alex nodded, then said, “Yes, I want to go home.” Ay began throwing the ball again. After a few moments, ay added, voice rough with anger and fear that was plain as day. “He was making really gross, really inappropriate jokes in the break room just now, and yesterday, he flirted with me outside when I was waiting for my mom to pick me up. He kept trying to get my phone number and was asking where I lived.” A pause, as ay stopped throwing the hacky sack, then, “I didn't tell him either.”

It took a supreme effort of will for Marilan to stop itself from immediately getting to its feet and kicking Jace violently back across the state line. Or maybe directly into the ground. With the aid of a baseball bat. Or Rani, if he could be convinced to transform and maul the creep. Maybe if Marilan covered him in tuna sauce.

Alex interrupted its thoughts by saying abruptly, angrily, making it realize it hadn't said anything to reassure ay yet, “I'm not going to work shifts with him anymore. If you won't reschedule me, then I'll just have to quit.” Yen voice was shaking, clearly on the verge of tears, and Marilan knew it had taken all of yen courage to get the words out.

“Alex, I promise you, Jace is not going to be allowed within a mile of this store before the hour is over. You did the right thing in coming to me, and I'll make sure he never bothers you again.”

--It refrained from explaining exactly how it would make sure of that.

“I know you're still used to life in the city, but around here, folks look out for eachother. Jace won't bother you again, you have my word on it. Now, you said you were going home?” When Alex nodded, finally looking up from the floor, it asked, pushing the bucket of candy a bit closer to encourage ay to take more, “Is your mom picking you up again, or did you get that tire fixed?”

Ay'd popped the back tire on yen bike wheeling it through the store at the end of yen shift after a customer had dropped a jar of pasta sauce earlier in the day, and a piece of broken glass had gotten missed sweeping up.

“It's fixed, I'm riding my bike home.” Ay said firmly, making it clear that this decision was not up for debate. Marilan, and the other long-term workers, had learned quickly not to offer Marilan a ride home unless there was actual thunder and lightning, in which case ay'd wait for yen mom. Ay valued yen independence, and probably didn't really trust any of the adults ay worked with, including Marilan.

And that was probably a good thing, considering what Jace had been trying to pull.

Marilan was just glad Alex trusted it enough to tell it.

Ay was starting to stand up, and reaching forward with the hacky sack to put it back in the basket, but Marilan held out a hand to get li to pause, saying, “If you like that one, keep it, please. They're no use if they don't get used. You can even take a few more for your sisters and mom if you want. And your friends, too-- I've got plenty more waiting to go to a good home.”

Alex smiled then, the first smile Marilan had seen from li yet that day, and said, “Thanks, Mb. Dexter!”, looking down at the basket with real excitement that was probably fueled by the fact that it'd believed li and was taking yen side.

To help li pick out from all the options, Marilan tilted the basket to let all the stress balls roll out onto the desk so ay could pick through them.

After a minute of testing each one, ay had sat five to the side, each with different colors, then looked at Marilan again for permission. “Is it okay if I take these ones?”

Marilan smiled, glad ay was no longer so upset. “Please, I'd love it if you do.”

With a smile, Alex pulled yen backpack off yen shoulder and put the toys, and the pile of candy Marilan has pushed enticingly closer, into the smaller front pocket, before slinging it back over yen shoulder and grabbing the handle of yen cane, clearly ready to leave.

Marilan walked with li all the way to the front door of the building, staying on yen right side so it wouldn't get in the way of yen cane, wanting to make sure that Jace wouldn't start any problems.

It was still planning on the best way to make sure he never caused any problems again. The idea of feeding him to Rani was getting more appealing the longer Marilan thought about it. But there were several drawbacks to that plan, some of them very obvious.

Only after Alex was out of sight down the road and around the corner did Marilan go back into the store, making a beeline for the break room.

Ron and Deyli were browsing the frozen section when Marilan was passing through, so it snapped its fingers and waved to get their attention, and they turned to look at it in curiosity. Marilan moved closer to help stop anyone from eavesdropping.

“We've got a problem with Jace.” It said grimly. “He was sexually harassing Alex, trying to find out where ay lives. Would Rani be willing to help?” It didn't need to elaborate on what kind of help was being requested. The cheery mood of its friends immediately dropped, and was instead replaced with the same boiling anger it was feeling.

“Are there any outoftowners in the store?” Ron immediately asked, looking around the currently empty aisle to make sure they were alone.

Marilan shook its head, “I haven't seen any yet, but we could always go out back just in case.”

“Out back” was a little city-planning oddity leftover from before; a small, completely walled in abandoned parking lot whose only entrance was through Marilan's shop, with none of the other buildings closing it in even having windows facing it. No one had ever been able to figure out what the architects who'd built it had been thinking. It was where trash and recycling were kept until it was time for it to be collected.

It would also conveniently prevent anyone from seeing Rani if he was kind enough to transform. It wouldn't stop anyone from hearing Jace's screams, but that could be solved by hypnotizing him into unconsciousness first.

Ron nodded, her brow furrowed and her gaze locked into the distance as she spoke to Rani. A few moments later her gaze refocused on Marilan, and she said, her black eyes momentarily, distinctly, flashing yellow, “He's more than willing.” Her voice came out strange as she said it, the partial shift messing with her vocal cords, raising her voice higher than it normally was.

She led the way back to the break room, her stride lengthening until Marilan and Deyli had to run to keep up with her as she burst through the breakroom door.

There came a short clatter, a yelp from Jace, and then silence.

When Marilan and Deyli got through the door, it was to see Ron, now halfway transformed into Rani, with white and orange fur bristling out of her skin like needles, staring down Jace, who had a spilled mug of coffee still rolling on the floor in front of him, a dazed and empty expression on his face, his eyes glowing yellow from within.

“Go to sleep, feel no pain, and never wake up again.” Rani said, his higher-pitched voice making it clear that the transformation had passed the halfway mark. Now he was in control, and Ron was on the inside.

Jace collapsed to the floor like a puppet that'd had its strings cut, and Rani grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and began to drag him towards the back door on the far side of the break room. Deyli ran to get the door, and Marilan had nothing to do but follow them. Rani was almost completely transformed now, the needly fur softening into a silky texture, his tail growing steadily out from under the back of his shirt, his ears growing taller and shifting further up his head.

“Good thing I missed breakfast.” He said, looking up at Marilan and baring his now sharpened, needle-like teeth in an all-too human grin, before dragging Jace past Deyli and out the door.

Marilan shared a look with Deyli, no longer needing to ask the question out loud after knowing them for so long. Deyli shrugged in answer, then turned, stepped outside, and, without a word, shut the door behind them.

Marilan grabbed a chair and pulled it in front of the door, pulled its phone out, opened its reading app, and prepared for a long wait.

Rani could have the rest of Jace's paycheck for the week as a thank you.

#long post #neopronouns in action #neopronouns #neopronoun short story #neopronoun writing prompts #neopronoun short stories #short story #ay/li/yen/alienself #ay/li #aylipronouns #ititspronouns #it/its pronouns #werecat

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rjalker · 9 months

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look what I found!

Neopronoun Short Stories on Reddit

#neopronouns #neopronouns in action #neopronoun short stories

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lazylittledragon · 1 month

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what do you mean youre technically a detransitioner cause of terf bullshit?

it's a v long story but i detransitioned for a couple of years when i was 16/17, for multiple reasons but mostly because i fell into the blaire white/kalvin garrah chamber of "you have to be This way to be trans otherwise you're not real".

i was already Deeply insecure about myself and my 'passing' and i was led to believe that i couldn't want to wear makeup or skirts, and i couldn't choose not to have bottom surgery, and i couldn't do anything but bind for 12+ hours a day to the point that my ribcage is still misshapen. basically i thought that if i wasn't suffering enough doing 'feminine' things, i couldn't really be trans, so i should just go back to being a girl and suck it up.

the terf bullshit is because i'd seen a lot of terfs/detransitioners talking about the 'dangers' of testosterone and how it would turn me into a horrible ugly evil monster and how there was nothing worse than wanting to be a man. which combined with 'you need to fully medically transition to be valid at all' creates some very dangerous and upsetting feelings to cope with.

it also came from trying really hard to put myself in a little box before i realised that my sexuality/gender are very fluid and it's FINE for me not to have a label and just do whatever i want. when i was 19 or so i went back to using they/them (and eventually he/him) and changed my name again because even though i like doing 'feminine' things, i don't want to be seen as a woman.

tldr: i was conditioned by transphobic/terf rhetorics to think that i was being trans the 'wrong' way so i couldn't be trans at all, so i believed i must actually be a girl if i still wanted to do 'feminine' things. nowadays i am a transmasc who does feminine things because i don't give two shits about what any transmed prick thinks of me anymore.

#ramble #ok to reblog btw i'm fine with this being shared #this was meant to be a short version but this is just the whole story whoops #sorry i realised the way i phrased it sounded like i'm the detrans you see in the news #i'm Technically a detransitioner because a lot of detrans stats are people who go on to RETRANSITION #because detransition is often because of social stigma and not because you realised you weren't trans #so anyway. terfs are cancer and if you don't think their bs is harming children you're wrong #i know it's easy to say 'you should've used your brain and realised those people were wrong'#but like. when you're 16 you're SO impressionable. even if you think you aren't #especially when you're watching people who have been transitioning longer than you and you assume they know everything #i was in my mid-late teens when 'transtrender' videos were MASSIVE and i believed it!!! and i was Not nice about those people #all they made me believe was that being trans couldn't be colourful and comfy and fun. it just had to be Pain #i hope everyone who contributed to the 'you need to be this way to be trans' mindset knows how much hurt they've caused #nowadays i don't care. go and be stargender. we have actual problems to deal with not debates about neopronouns #anyway this was long. that's the story

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neopronounhell · 1 month

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xe/xem short story ·˚ * 🔭 ⋆ .☆

thank you @neopronouns-in-action for the idea to do this!! <3

˚₊ ⊹ 　✦　　‧₊˚✩彡　.　　. 　 ˚　.　‎‧₊˚✩　　 . ✦　⋆ .☆ ˚　　　　 . ★⋆. 　

Xe looked around, anxious. Xe had just been chased down by bullies, and xe was hiding in a closet, shivering from the cold.

The door opened. Xe jumped. It was one of xyr bullies, oh god, xe were done for now–

“Hey, are you okay? What’s wrong?” someone said. Not xyr bully. Okay.

“I-I’m fine. Why are you in the closet?” xe answered.

The stranger giggled. Xe cocked xyr head at them, and they giggled even more.

“Sorry, it’s just– I’m part of the GSA. I’ve been out of the closet for like, six years.” they said, wiping a tear from their eye. “What about you?”

“Sara and Brittany were chasing me down,” xe sighed. “They found my social media.”

“What do you do on there that’s so bad?” they asked, sitting down next to xem.

“Have neopronouns, I guess,”

“Oh!” They smiled. “That’s so cool! What neopronouns do you use?”

“Xe/xem,” xe said, finally smiling for the first time since xe entered this stupid closet.

“Oh, I completely forgot, my name’s Alula! You can use they/them for me,” they said. Well, phew, I don’t need to change anything, xe thought, and grinned to xemself.

“You can call me Eris,” xe said, and Alula smiled. They got up, and for a second, xe got scared that they were leaving xem.

Xe didn’t need to, though, because they turned around and said: “Wanna come to the mall with me? If Sara tries to harass you again, I’ll kick her ass,”

They offered xem a hand, which xe took, and they walked out of the closet. And for the first time, xe thought high school might not be so bad after all.

#xe/xem #neopronouns #neopronoun short story #neopronoun safe #mogai safe #mogai friendly #mogai community #⋆౨ৎ˚⟡.• stories

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autumnalwalker · 6 months

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The Melts

Author's Note: A while back I had a bit of a ramble on how I wished that it was more common to find examples of human bodies artistically warped into new and interesting configurations presented in a manner other than horror and gave an off-the-top of my head example of a hypothetical episode of a slice-of-life series going on that theme. A couple months passed, and then with Halloween approaching, I decided on a whim to slam out a rough draft of that story over the weekend. So here we are. Summary: What if your entire body slowly melting over the course of the day got treated as being no worse than the common cold and you still have to go to work because you work retail and already used up all your sick days? Wordcount: 5,295 Content Warnings: Descriptions of the sensation of one's body slowly melting into a fleshy pile of goo, various weird anatomical modifications, spider-like creatures crawling all over people, having to go into work while sick.

Mil had the melts.

They became aware of this approximately four and a half minutes after waking up when their hand made an unfortunate squelch sound upon palming their alarm clock’s snooze button. They held their hand in place in denial for another half minute while their arm slowly stretched and drooped down into the space between bed and bedside table. They reluctantly opened their eyes and groaned at the sight of the clock’s contour pressing up through a hand whose bones had gone limp and elastic.

It was going to be one of those days.

The thought of calling in sick today briefly crossed their mind, but no, it was close to the end of the year and they’d already used up all of their sick days. Any more would have to come out of their precious holiday leave time.

It was fine, they told themself while throwing back the covers of their bed and pointedly ignoring how that arm curled back around on itself from the momentum. It was only a mild case and it would probably clear up by the time their shift was over. Enough to be annoying but nothing worth making a fuss over. Unless it was a severe case, but that almost never happens.

As a small mercy, Mil’s legs weren’t as melted as their arm so they only almost fell over immediately upon standing up on appendages that bent and swayed in spots that don’t have joints. Thank goodness for counterbalancing tails. People often called their look basic, but Mil preferred to think of it as classic. Feline ears and tails had been among the first reshapings to see mainstream adoption and Mil had personally always found more complicated additions of prehensile limbs and sensory organs to be a nightmare of overstimulation. Plus, the ears and tail were a nice aid in emoting to make up for the difficulty Mil usually had with expressing themself by voice and face alone.

By the time Mil reached the kitchen they’d found a workable rhythm to their unsteady gait that managed to keep them mostly upright. No time for anything complicated for breakfast, and probably best to keep away from the toaster in this state, so cereal it was. That had its own complications of course - grip the spoon too loosely and its weight would stretch their fingers down and apart, but too tightly and their whole hand would roll itself up and try to retract back into their arm - but several minutes of grumbling around mouthfuls of wheat byproduct and dairy tree milk where enough to convince Mil that it wasn’t really all that bad and that they’d be able to manage at work today.

They pointedly ignored the ensuing contrary evidence that came in the form of their legs getting stuck on the inside of their pants and rolling up into lumpy balls until they gave up and went with a skirt. They’d already spent all the time they normally would have devoted to their morning workout on trying to pour themself into a tight turtleneck while getting the right body parts through the right holes. Supposedly wearing snug-fitting clothing like this was an effective way to hold your shape relatively solid in a bad case of the melts - which Mil definitely (probably) didn’t have - but in practice it was not as useful a tip as its popularity would suggest.

But hey, they were fed, dressed and out of the house almost on time, so that was a victory. And it meant they were almost on time to catch the tram before it left. Oh. Wait.

It’s fine, they told themself while fiddling with the straps on the mask they’d donned on their way out the door. It would only be a few minutes until the next tram scuttled up. They’d only be a little bit late to work. Everyone would understand. Afterall, who hadn’t had the melts before? In the meantime it gave them a few extra moments to try to get their mask to squeeze their head into a less embarrassing shape. If Mil had to go in sick, it was the least they could do to try not to spread it. But if they could be considerate while not having their skull get squished in the middle into the shape of a peanut, that’d be great.

A few pats on the side of the face, a push on the the top of their head, some hard nodding, get their fingers untangled from the mask straps aaannnddd…. A plop and a dizzying snap as Mil felt their jaw distend and the lower half of their face slide fully into the mask just as the next tram arrived. Checking their reflection out in the tram’s shiny carapace confirmed that their head was an acceptable shape. Maybe a little bit snout-y, but they could write that off as being part of the feline look. So long as no one saw the mess under their mask.

The good part of being out at the end of the line like this is that Mil almost always got a decent seat on the tram and plenty of time to listen to their audio books. It almost made up for the long commute. Of course, today one earbud kept falling off the top of their head every few minutes from that ear not holding its shape well enough and the other one was worming its way uncomfortably far into an ear that seemed to be trying to swallow it through a series of expansions and contractions that mirrored Mil’s breathing. By the second stop Mil gave up and shoved both earbuds back into a skirt pocket, resigning themself to ride stewing in silence.

That silence only lasted one more stop when the bulk of the other commuters started to pour in. By the fifth stop Mil was firmly wedged between a shell-backed construction worker and a twelve-armed switchboard operator who had enough respect for personal space to keep those arms wrapped around zemself but not enough to not press three different elbows into Mil's ribs. Mil tried not to hold it against zem. It was the morning rush hour. Getting pressed together was to be expected. Even if that meant winding up half a foot taller and considerably flatter. Mil tried not to think about how many people they were spreading their melts to.

At the ninth stop Mil extruded themself from the over-packed tram and toddered over to a bench to catch their breath. If they were going to be late anyway, what was an extra minute or two to let their shoulderblades stop overlapping and left and right halves of their ribcage stop interlacing? Just a few deep breaths to puff their torso back out and they were good to go. They could fix their hair later after they got into a restroom to wash the public transit funk off their hands.

Walking into the store’s employee entrance a couple blocks down the street, Mil was greeted with the terrifying visage of their manager, Baroft. The smile wasn’t terrifying because of the fangs (Mil had been considering getting some themself for some time now but couldn’t quite justify it with how little meat they ate), nor because of the extra pair of slit-pupiled crimson eyes (pretty standard for those who could adapt to the extra sensory input), nor even for the contrast with the face’s second mouth that wasn’t smiling (that one never smiled, it wasn’t the customer service voice mouth). No, that smile was terrifying because if Baroft was happy - even worse, relieved - to see them walk in the door late for work, then that could only mean one thing.

The store was short-staffed today.

Mil would have to deal with customers.

Mil was - generally speaking - not good with people even on the best of days, and today was - as the flesh of their hand pooling at their fingertips under the force of gravity like ripening fruit would attest - not the best of days. Most of the time they got by on trading duties with coworkers to spend as much of their workday as possible on the backend duties; stocking inventory, cleaning, feeding the weavers, updating displays, etc. If one good thing could be said about Baroft it was that after seeing Mil awkwardly stumble through enough customer conversations and fitting attempts, yt had realized that putting them in a customer-facing role was more likely to lose the store money than earn it.

But now Baroft was complaining about Rangel being out on jury duty at the same time as Kalei being unable to come in due to thons kid pupating, and Paras from the evening shift had called in sick, so Mil could just imagine the sort of morning Baroft has been having, and Mil was going to have to be a team player and pull through just for today all the way through until closing time, and yes there would be overtime compensation once they made up for arriving late, and what’s Mil complaining about it’s just the melts, if they were able to get here then obviously isn’t that serious, now no attitude and best behavior in front of the customers, it was already bad enough that yt had had to call Leolani and ask eir to come in early today.

That last part cut through Baroft‘s blizzard of words and caused Mil’s heart to skip a beat. Leolani usually arrived just as Mil was getting ready to leave for the day so they didn’t know eir all that well, but the handful of brief conversations the two of them had shared always left Mil wanting to change that. It wasn’t a crush per say, only that everything about Leolani struck Mil as indescribably cool and made them wish they could be friends and hang out. Eir jacket covered in punk patches that ei left draped over the chair in the employee breakroom that no one else dared claim. Eir perfect eyeliner. The way ei could multitask taking one customer’s measurements while uncoiling eir twelve-foot neck over to help another customer pick out a suit off the rack. Eir taste in music that had made the basis for the longest interaction Mil had managed with eir.

Under other circumstances, the opportunity to spend the day commiserating with Leolani over being the two youngest employees by a wide margin and how awful the holiday rush that started earlier every year was might have almost made up for having to work late. Now though, they were suddenly feeling self-conscious about the way their spine had started to go limp in places and force them into a slouch.

Mil’s trip to the restroom to straighten up in front of the mirror was a perfunctory one. They might have arrived late to work, but no way were they going to be late to feed the weavers on schedule. Elam - in early and still in nir fall look of leaf-like orange hair and skin covered in gray keratin growths mimicking tree bark - gave a marginally less brusque than usual greeting when Mil pushed aside the heavy curtain separating the dim tailoring room from the shop, even going so far as to offer nir sympathies for Mil’s melts. Mil’s more solid hand glorped over one of the nutrient slurry canisters on the shelf as they insisted that they were fine. Just a minor case of the melts that would clear up by the afternoon.

Elam raised a skeptical woody eyebrow and offered to handle the feeding duties today, but Mil declined and stepped into the weavers’ enclosure. The way Mil saw it, they were something like an apprentice to Elam who had finally promised to teach them how to direct the weavers once the new year rolled around, so any chance to prove themself… well, it wasn’t so much welcome as not something they could afford to pass up. Experienced weaver handlers were always in demand (as evidenced by Elam being able to afford four full-body reshapes a year just to keep up the image of a tree changing with the seasons), and honestly it was the closest thing Mil had to a career advancement opportunity.

Besides, Mil genuinely liked working with weavers, they thought as the small swarm of arachnoid bio-tools began crawling all over them to get to the nutrient slurry. It was important that the weavers were well-fed in the morning before any clients came in for a fitting lest they get either too tired or too carried away with their purpose. As it was, a few of the weavers must have failed to recognize Mil’s scent and shape due to their illness and mistaken them for a client, forcing Mil to gently shoo the engineered creatures off before the threads of their turtleneck could be unpicked and reassembled into whatever pattern the weavers had last been installed with. Most of the chittering swarm sloughed off to feed once the nutrient slurry had been dispensed and Mil was able to encourage the stragglers to depart from their body heat without too much trouble.

To Mil’s chagrin, once they stepped back outside of the enclosure Elam leaned over and plucked a weaver off the back of their neck that had pushed their unusually pliant skin into a little bowl to nest in. Mil’s stammering apology was met with a laugh and an encouraging slap on the back that made their whole body ripple unpleasantly. Better than a reprimand.

Back out in the main store, Leolani had already arrived and engaged with the first customers of the morning, signing at one with eir hands while stretching eir neck over an aisle of racks to explain the fitting process to another. When ei caught Mil staring, ei sent the second customer their way. The next few minutes constituted the first grueling attempt of many that day to talk someone who wasn’t really all that interested (whether due to boredom, intimidation, lack of intent to buy, or just wanting to get their stuff and get out) through pricing options on bespoke versus alterations by limb configuration and fabric type. Or failing that to sell something off the rack, even if it was just an expensive pair of socks with the store’s monogram on it. Or failing that at least collect an email address for a mailing list. This is what made the holiday rush so awful. The rest of the year most of the store's customers were regulars who mostly had a specific goal upon walking in, but for the next couple of months traffic would surge with only a minimal uptick in actual sales to show for it. All the same, everyone that walked in had to be treated as a potential new regular just in case. As if it wasn’t already anxiety-inducing enough to deal with people whom Mil possessed at least a passing familiarity with.

By noon Mil’s ears were pressed flat back against their skull. In part, this was an expression of their mood, but mostly it was a matter of the ears’ swivel muscles losing cohesion and getting stuck in the last used position. It was making it a little bit difficult to hear clearly, but they had long since learned the hard way that making a rough guess and sticking to a script tended to be received better than asking people to repeat themselves. At last the lunch-time lull arrived and Mil was able to steal off to the break room for a reprieve. It was blessedly quiet in there save for the hum of the refrigerator holding the protein shakes Mil had stashed for days too busy for a proper lunch. Mil dipped into that stash today. Their melts were getting worse before they were getting better and the prospect of trying to wobble down the street in their current state to their usual lunch spot where they would surely be recognized struck Mil as lethally embarrassing. And exhausting.

They took the opportunity to examine the patches on Leolani‘s jacket (draped over eir chair in undisputed claim as ever) while they struggled first with the shake’s cap and then with their mask. Their fingers weren’t cooperating much at all now, between having gone mostly limp and being plumped up with all the flesh their normally-flatteringly-body-hugging turtleneck was now squeezing out of their torso and arms and into their extremities. At least one or two of the patches on the jacket had to do with bands, Mil was fairly certain. Would it make for a better conversation starter to ask Leolani about those bands, or to look up and listen to the music up themself first in order to have something in common? Mil mulled the question over while nursing their shake. Better than thinking about the similarities between their lunch and the weavers’ breakfast.

As Mil threw their head back to drain the last few drops from the protein shake’s bottle, they felt their spine come loose and their head just kept going back. And down. And around. Until it bumped into the back of the low-backed chair, upside down and just above their own waist.

They had folded themself.

Mil took a breath, held it, let it out, and came away even less calm than before. Lungs not making up their mind where they should be will do that to a body.

It was fine. This sort of thing happened. Annoying, but nothing serious.

Mil tried to swing themself upright, but it was the sudden lack of back muscles that got them into this position. They tried grabbing the chair and pulling themself up into an unbent vertical, but the strain just stretched out their hands. They tried to do the obvious thing and just stand up, but folded like a wet, heavy towel as they were over the chair’s back, they couldn’t get the proper leverage and just scrambled their feet, scooting the chair along the floor with a teeth-itching squeak.

Mil heard Leolani walk in before they saw eir. Not that they could see much besides the floor behind their chair. Leolani asked if they were alright and Mil’s mind raced with enough potential responses that it might as well have gone blank. But then fear of getting stuck won out over pride. There was no salvaging this one to come out looking cool.

Mil asked for help. Just a little bit mind you. They’d be fine if they could just get themself unfolded.

Boots made for digitigrade feet stepped into Mil’s inverted view, followed by a round face with perfect eyeliner that then rotated to match their perspective in a motion that suddenly shifted the impression from serpentine to owlish. A light joke about the view from down there was quickly followed by a warning that came at the same time as a pair of hands gripping (very literally) into Mil’s shoulders and lifting. Once ei had them upright ei asked if they were good. Mil said they were and then immediately slumped forward, overcorrecting and refolding in the opposite direction.

Leolani, neck now coiled up over and around eir own shoulders like a scarf, told them to hang for a minute and then came back with a mop handle and a roll of duct tape. A comment about a friend of eirs once having done this for eir and an apology about this feeling weird was all the warning Mil got before the Leolani began working the mop handle up the back of their shirt. Ei called it the scarecrow method of stabilization. After producing a pair of compression gloves from eir messenger bag and helping Mil get them on, Leolani let them apply the duct tape in private with a reassurance that it was the cheap stuff and would come off after a decent soak in a hot bath, if not sooner.

Trying to walk with the improvised back brace was awkward, but better than the alternative. Mil shambled out of the employee break room, wondering how much longer their legs would stay semi-solid, just in time to see a regular they recognized but couldn’t put a name to walk in. Somehow additional legs were far less popular than additional arms, so this regular’s centaur pattern group body configuration stuck out. Not that Mil knew for sure whether it was hooves, feet, or claws beneath those patent leather shoes and it would be rude to ask. What Mil did know at a glance was what xe was here for. The regular’s bat-like wings (aesthetically impressive and flexible enough to clasp in the front and fold into a cloak, but almost certainly not flight-, or even glide-rated) hadn’t been present on xyr last visit to the store. Now here was something that was as close to Mil’s comfort zone as anything got.

They greeted the regular and went through their mental script for this sort of interaction, making the appropriate vague inquiries about xyr wellbeing, complimenting xyr new wings, trying not to drip on anything as their melts slowly got worse, guiding xem through the booklets of fabric swatches and catalog of styles, and dancing around the fact that they couldn’t remember xyr name for the life of them. Once the regular made their selections, Mil led xem back to the tailoring room where they handed the selections off to Elam. Strictly speaking, Mil should have left it be from there and returned to the main display floor of the store, but they liked watching this next part and were even more willing than usual today to take any excuse for a break. If anyone asks (no one will) they’ll say that they were taking notes. Or would saying that they were assisting sound better? Whatever the truth would be on most days, this time Mil simply leaned on a wall for support and watched Elam type in a console to install the selected pattern on the weavers, guide the regular into the weavers’ enclosure, and start speaking in the language of clicks, snaps, and command phrases the bio-tools had been trained on. What before had been a disorganized collection of individual lab-created arachnoid creatures became a precision swarm washing over the regular (who had been through this enough times not to flinch too much), taking xyr measurements by touch with sensitive legs able to estimate and account for offsets due to the regular’s clothes by pressure and texture alone. Once each of the individual weavers was in position on the regular’s body Elam snapped nir fingers to send the swarm skittering into a different position, held for a few seconds of processing, then snapped again for a third configuration. A larger swarm could have generated a full three dimensional scan of a target’s body in one go, but the upkeep costs on swarm size wasn’t generally seen as being worth it just to shave off a few seconds. A final command word cleared the swarm back into the corners of the enclosure.

Like most customers, the regular elected to come back later in the day to pick up xyr new suit and have any last-minute alterations made then. As opposed to partially undressing and allowing the weavers to weave the new suit directly on. Supposedly the latter option would get a truly amazing bespoke fit, but for most it wasn’t worth standing still for an extended period of time with bug legs crawling all over you and working miniaturized biological sewing machines millimeters away from your exposed skin. Maybe one day when Mil had Elam‘s job and income they could find out for themself. For now though, Mil simply offered to lend nem a hand with loading in the fabric feedstock to get the assembly process started. It seemed that pinstripes were making a comeback this season.

The next few hours were, all things considered, not too bad. A decent portion of customers were regulars rather than randoms, Mil got to watch a couple more sessions of the weavers at work, the one song that they weren’t tired of on the station the store had been running on loop for the past three weeks came on, and - most importantly - they’d managed to keep up something like an ongoing conversation with Leolani in between customers. Now if only their melts hadn’t been getting steadily worse instead of better. By the time Mil’s normal shift would be ending they were having trouble standing up for more than a minute or so at a time. Elam even offered to talk to Baroft on nir way out - ne still got to live at nir usual time today - about letting them go on home. Against Mil’s better judgment, they turned nem down, citing the appeal of overtime pay and silently fearing that leaving might reflect poorly on their performance or attitude.

So, of course, two hours later Mil’s skeletal structure gave out altogether, reducing them to a fleshy puddle on the floor. They’d felt it coming on and had just barely been able to make it back to the breakroom and out of sight of customers. Leolani came rushing in moments later, having seen their attempt at a distressed and hasty exit. If there was a silver lining to the gross (they were on the floor in a public building) and embarrassing situation, it was that their skirt had flared out enough to preserve some semblance of modesty and mostly cover up the skin-covered blob slowly spreading across the linoleum.

When Leolani asked if they were alright, Mil’s response came out garbled and bubbling. So, no, not so much.

After several rounds of “One blink for No, two blinks for Yes,” Mil managed to first turn down an offer to call an ambulance (it might be a severe case, but it was still just the melts; they would sleep it off and be fine by morning) and then to direct Leolani to retrieve their phone and its neurolink adapter from their skirt pocket and attach the adapter to Mil’s forehead (or at least a spot on Mil’s increasingly amorphous form slightly above their eyes). Neurolinks like this one were a clumsy technology, still in its infancy, so Mil had to concentrate on a single letter at a time for a second or three apiece to make words appear on the screen, but it beat the alternative. From there the two of them were able to talk - after a fashion - and settle on the plan of laying Mil out in the tailoring room, out of sight of both customers and Baroft. If Baroft asked where they were, Leolani would cover for them and say that they were handling some task or another that Elam left for them. Afterall, with Mil only being able to sort of writhe and flop around, it’s not like they were going to be able to get themself home, so may as well just sleep it off here.

Unprompted, Leolani input eir contact info into Mil’s phone before leaving them in there. Being able to exchange text messages made lying there barely able to move in the dimly lit room for the remaining hours until closing time considerably more tolerable. Almost pleasant even, despite how exhausting trying to type with the neurolink for extended periods of got to be. The white noise of the nearby weavers’ chitters and skitters helped.

And then, as the store’s closing time was approaching and the last customer left for the night, Leolani offered to take Mil home instead of leaving them in the store overnight. Mil could keenly feel the spike in their heart rate at the question rippling through their not-quite liquefied form. The added clarification that Leolani had realized about an hour ago that the two of them both lived roughly the same part of town with the same tram stop so it wouldn’t be much of a detour for eir to drop them off at their place quickly dispelled the wilder fantasies (terrifying and idealistic alike) that Mil’s mind had started jumping to.

Mil was aware, objectively speaking, that they didn’t really know Leolani all that well outside of the off-and-on conversations about hobbies and interests they’d been having most of the day and that letting someone like that know your address and handing them your keys wasn’t really the smartest idea. Subjectively speaking however, Mil was tired, young, and platonically infatuated with their cool coworker whom they seemed to be hitting it off well with.

A few minutes later Mil heard Leolani‘s and Baroft‘s voices outside the backroom’s curtain and caught snippets of Leolani offering to close up the store for the night and lying that Baroft had just missed Mil leave a minute ago. Another minute or two of silence followed before Leolani pushed aside the curtain and strutted over to Mil carrying a large bucket. It took some doing, but ei got them to fit. The melts made flesh as compressible as it made it elastic.

Somehow being scooped up, poured into a bucket, and pressed on until they fit was not the most embarrassing experience Mil had been through that day.

Leolani was able to lift Mil’s bucket with relative ease. Surprising at first, but on second thought, Leolani must have had some manner of musculoskeletal reinforcements for strength and balance if ei was walking around with all that extra weight from eir neck sitting on eir shoulders all the time.

The conversation on the way back home was fairly one-sided. It was simply too hard to concentrate on typing through the neurolink with all the novel sensations going on. Sloshing slightly in the bucket as it swung with Leolani‘s gait. Staring straight up into the night sky (or eir face) while moving. The uncomfortable warmth generated from being their own folded blanket stuffed in a tight space. The rumbling of the tram transferred through the floor and sides of the bucket making their whole body quiver and vision blur. It was fine though. Mil had never been a big talker and Leolani seemed more than willing to fill the space. Or was ei intentionally trying to keep Mil distracted from all those other less pleasant aspects of their current situation? If ei was, it was working. And it turned out Mil hadn’t even needed to ask about the band patches; Leolani had started talking at length about them all on eir own. Best of all, stuck looking out of the bucket up at the ceiling like this, Mil couldn’t see anyone else staring at them and could almost pretend it was just the eir and them without the eyes of strangers that had always made them uncomfortable.

And then Leolani was standing at the door to Mil’s apartment, holding their keys. Ei let eirself inside, carrying Mil’s bucket with eir, found their bed, lifted them from the bucket, and laid them out flat on top of the sheets. Being exposed to cool air again was a blessed relief. They would absolutely need a shower in the morning, but for right now they were too exhausted to care. They tried not to think too hard about how being rather literal putty in Leolani‘s hands felt.

Duty done and aid rendered, Leolani left the neurolink on Mil’s face in case anything came up in the night before they solidified, left the keys on the bedside table, left the lights off, and left the apartment.

On eir way out, ei suggested hanging out together sometime when they weren’t sick.

*******

Mil’s hand made a perfectly normal pap sound upon palming their alarm clock’s snooze button. Their hand was hand-shaped and none of their bones wobbled. And why wouldn’t that be the case after a good night’s sleep?

It had only been the melts.

#writeblr #my writing #writers on tumblr #original fiction #body horror #sliceoflife #slice of life #short story #Halloween #If I were ever to go back and do a second draft of this the two main things I'd want to do are add dialogue and make it weirder.#More mouths and eyeballs in places they're not supposed to go. Everyone loves those right? Maybe some tentacles.#Maybe add another coworker who used to be two or more separate people before fusing their bodies together into a lovely chimerical mess.#Going all in on the neopronouns and giving every character their own individual pronouns was a fun exercise.#Mil using they/them is part of them being “basic” and boring.#I'm a little sad that I wasn't able to work a “nyanbinary” pun in there somewhere #but with binary identity already being out the window to begin with I realized that it would have been out of place/redundant.#Mil's name derives from me watching “Milo and Otis” as a kid then naming our first orange cat that #then having an old recurring catboy OC named Milo that I used a lot of games and stories I never wrote down #and then shaving off the “o” for this newest iteration to make the name a little more gender-neutral to my ears.#Everyone else had placeholder names until after I finished the story and then filled them back in via random generator.#The real monster here is capitalism and the real horror is having to go to work while sick.#I've never actually worked in retail myself so most everything I know of it comes from movies and TV. And seeing it from the customer POV.#There's a semi-upscale clothing store near where I live that I briefly visited years ago and I got halfway through this going by that memor #Then to refresh myself I went there again and straight up told an employee I was writing a story and asked what it was like to work there.#It was a strangely liberating experience. Especially with my usual social anxiety issues. (Sorry Mil those are yours too now. Lacuna too #That's where I got the thing about regulars being the normal main customers the detail about the one liked song song on the looping radio #most of the staff being older and the tailor/bespoke clothing guy being sort of a separate business within the store.

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thebookbin · 2 years

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In the Watchful City

S. Qiouyi Lu

Publisher: Tor Genre: sci fi Year: 2021

Today I finished In the Watchful City by S. Qiouyi Lu and I was blown away. It was my first novel that used neopronouns. The main character used æ/ær pronouns (the same that the author uses) and there is another character that uses se/ser pronouns. The story follows Anima, a human dedicated to the safety and knowledge of all people in the futuristic city of Ora. Ær job is to move into the bodies of animals around the city and help, sometimes intervene in crimes or watch out for accidents. While Anima has lived in thousands of bodies, ær own body cannot leave the pool in which æ live and the cables that bind ær to the Gleaming. The book begins when æ meet Vessel, a mysterious traveler from another realm. Vessel has a qitiang full of items, each item containing a memory. Anima may choose any of the items to feel their story, and when æ are done with the experience æ must give ser a memory of ær own. Through these objects, some insignificant, some beautiful, we get brief flashes of humanity from people all over this world, and Anima learns what it truly means to be human. All the stories are queer. This was truly a delight to read and just solidifies my interest in translated fiction and in gender studies in other languages. storygraph | bookshop.org | local houston

★★★★★ compelling, linguistic stars

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eli-mendoza-author · 11 months

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View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Incense Zine (@incensezine)

instagram

A short story I'm doing for a zine!! Get a copy to check it out :) It's my first like open story on disabled futures in sci-fi, and I might even expand on this in the future.

It's also got plenty of queer characters, including a transmasc who uses xe/xem pronouns!!

#lgbtq authors #zine preorders #disabled author #disability #scififantasy #short story #writeblr #creative writing #lgbt fiction #neopronouns #Instagram

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alighted-willow · 1 year

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I can now quote my creative writings teacher that one shouldn’t focus on the “contents” of a piece of literature when critiquing it. “Politics and values”, she says, “aren’t what we're focusing on”.

I'm making this post because (1) I think her comments are funny; (2) the stories that I've been assigned to read involve racism, famine, power struggles, and war; and (3) even if none of those elements were involved, values and politics are inherent to all media and all art. The only times people ever say “leave politics out of it” is when that person has no stakes in the matter or when they're bending the knee to others so as to dig their heads into the ground in an attempt at a false peace.

#Walerrife Rambles #Also she asked me if I was ‘particularly invested’ in thr neopronouns for one of my characters.#Also also; in the short story of hers she had us read for the first week; she features a racial steryotype for an Irish woman (I'm Irish)#and has that character be the big bad.#The moral of that particular story of hers- spoken explicitly by the ‘good characters’#was that like must always be with like #IN THE CONTEXT OF INTERRACIAL RELATIONSHIPS.#I'm still iffed about that story.#The Irish character being the big bad (passively- kind of) could have absolutely worked #and then she has the moral be ‘no cross breeding’.#Just-#Ehhhhhhh!

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ofthehemlockgrove · 2 years

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I'm curious to see what Tumblr thinks of this short story I created based off randomly selected runes.

https://www.nikkihudakauthor.com/post/a-bulb-don-t-see-its-own-light

#tell me what you think #i wrote something #i hope you like it #it came out more meaningful than expected #used neopronouns #a short story about a moment in time #writers on tumblr #storyteller #writer #lgbtqia #nonbinary

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this-is-exorsexism · 2 months

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welcome to this is exorsexism.

this is an account to highlight exorsexism, so that more people learn to recognise it when it's happening and we can fight it better.

what happens here is that i will post examples of exorsexism here as i encounter it, as well as submitted examples. this can be stories of exorsexism of offline or online exorsexism. if not immediately clear, i may provide an explanation of how something is exorsexist.

this is also a safe space for nonbinary people to vent or rant about exorsexism.

you can submit exorsexism you encountered to me via submissions or asks. if you send a screenshot of someone being exorsexist, please make sure to crop or censor any identifying information such as their username and profile picture. this account is for educational purposes and for nonbinary people to vent their experiences, not to send harassment to anyone.

exorsexism from within nonbinary and wider transgender communities is also welcome as that too needs awareness.

not sure if something you want to submit counts as exorsexism? submit it anyway and we can talk about it. and if you think your exorsexism experience isn't "bad enough" to be submitted: yes, it is.

credit where credit is due: this account is very much inspired by @exorsexistbullshit who sadly hasn't been active in going on 5 years, as well as casualableism on instagram.

submission rules:

since this is a blog to highlight a form of bigotry and oppression that also often intersects with other forms of oppression, a "no bigotry" rule doesn't make sense here. however, being bigoted towards bigots is not welcome here. this includes calling bigots or bigotry -phobic (i.e. "homophobia"), narcissistic, delusional, lame, blind, cr*zy, st*pid and more.

the key difference here is whether you are quoting bigotry you have encountered or whether you're being bigoted as well.

i am multiply disabled and we don't do that kind of thing here, so if i ignored your ask or blocked you, that's probably why.

what is exorsexism?

in short, exorsexism is the oppression of and bigotry against nonbinary people. it is essentially sexism directed at nonbinary people. furthermore, it also includes the hatred of anything heavily associated with nonbinary people, like certain pronouns. exorsexism ranges from the erasure of nonbinary people to outright hostility. there are many different kinds of exorsexism as there are many different kinds of exorsexism. exorsexism affects the whole range of nonbinary gender identities, including but not limited to agender, multigender, genderfluid, aporagender & xenogender people, as well as androgynes, nonbinary men & nonbinary women.

here's an incomplete list of examples of exorsexism:

- nonbinary erasure, not just erasure of all nonbinary people, but also of more specific gender identities

- forcing nonbinary people into the gender binary or creating new gender-related binaries to force us into (e.g. amab/afab, masc/fem, men/non-men, cis/trans)

- thinking gender can't be fluid

- thinking everyone has to have a gender

- thinking nonbinary identities are new, a trend, a choice, a phase or a way to try and be special

- erasing exorsexism as a specific form of oppression

- thinking nonbinary people have to look a certain way

- centring binary people & experiences in communities that have historically included us

- mocking they, it and neopronouns

- thinking that "everyone is a bit nonbinary"/reducing nonbinaryhood to gender nonconformity

- thinking nonbinary people are just deviations from binary genders, i.e. men & women lite

#this is exorsexism #exorsexism #nonbinary #enby #agender #multigender #genderfluid #bigender #pangender #genderflux #androgyne #demigirl #demiboy #aporagender #neutrois #maverique #xenogender

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themonsterundermystairs · 6 months

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short list of lgbt-inclusive games that i love (in brackets is the kind of representation):

- cattails and it‘s sequel, cattails: wildwood story (nonbinary, queer in general): these are both great games that warrior cats fans will love. also, every single cat in the game is non binary. everyone is only referred to by they/them and you can have kittens with anyone.

- starfield (nonbinary, bi, same sex relationships, trans): you can choose your pronouns (he, she or they) no matter your body type. you can also always change your body and pronouns for a small fee. some main companions talk about former partners of the same gender, in at least one case, a character references dating men and women. guards may also reference a partner of the same gender.

- skyrim (same sex relationships for player, gay): you can marry regardless of gender and adopt kids with your spouse. there is a dead gay couple. (this will be the only game with so little representation on this list. i included it because i love skyrim, because you can make it gayer with mods and because it is from 2011 so i don‘t have high expectations)

- ikenfell (nonbinary, queer relationships, neopronouns): a really fun rpg with a fun combat system. also very queer, every character has their pronouns listed and there are nonbinary people with they/them, ze/zir and even he/him pronouns. i haven‘t quite finished playing through it yet, but there are all kinds of queer relationships. oh and you save the game by petting cats

- wandersong (queer relationships, gender nonconformity, nonbinary): a really unique and wholesome game about a bard that wants to save the world. it has an amazing story and some of the most well written characters i have ever encountered. the bard is nonbinary and uses all pronouns and there is a noteworthy nonbinary character whose story doesn‘t revolve around them being nonbinary. they are fully accepted. there are plenty of queer relationships. there are mermaids with beard stubble.

- a short hike (nonbinary): an amazingly fun game that actually feels like a holiday. it also has a super fast turtle that goes by they/them pronouns

- shovel knight (queer relationships, trans, nonbinary): fun platformer that allows you to choose your body type (male/female) and your pronouns (he/she/they) independently from one another. you can also do the same for all bosses and your love interest.

- squidlit and super squidlit: really fun gameboy style games that were created by independent trans developers.

#skyrim #starfield #lgbt #lgbtq #gaymer #trans #non binary #enby #neopronouns #cattails #warrior cats #wandersong #ikenfell #shovel knight #game recommendations

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neopronouns-in-action · 9 months

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Neopronouns in Action #057: Back to a New Beginning

Neopronouns: hy/hym/hys/hymself which follow the same rules as

Replace he with hy

Replace him with hym

Replace his with hys

Replace himself with hymself

EX:

Becomes:

"Hy is going to adopt a new puppy soon, as soon as hy gets a fence set up around hys yard so the puppy can go outside without hym having to walk it. Hys uncle is going to help set up the fence, since he has a set of power tools he’s letting hym use, since hy lost hys. Hy's going to buy toys and train the puppy hymself.”

Other sets:

pley/plem/pleir/plemself

shy/shyr/shyrs/shyrself

ty/tyr/tyrself

= = =

A single word changed hys life forever.

There was nothing hy could do to stop hymself. The shock and horror and panic were too strong.

Rationality was gone. Logic was gone. All thought of the potential consequences were gone.

Hy saw what was happening below, hy knew what it meant, what would follow, and hy couldn't let it happen.

The scream of “No!” ripped itself out of hys throat without a single concious thought on hys part. All hy could feel was the fear and terror and rage that had haunted hym since the first time this day happened.

The dawn up until this moment had been silent, because the people below were approaching by stealth, unwilling to be seen until it was too late for their victims to fight back.

Hys scream broke the silence just as it broke something inside hym, and the murderers below all turned at once to look up, staring at hym up on the ridge overlooking the farm.

For one heartbeat more, hy stayed standing there, frozen in fear, in shock, in hororr. Staring down at the six men – just six, that was all it had taken -- who had ruined hys life and destroyed hys family.

Then, the rage rose up and smothered every other thought. Hy didn't care about trying not to be seen. Hy didn't care about getting back to hys current time. Hy didn't care what Ralf would have said, or wanted hym to do.

Sanfe and Valar were already racing back, flying faster than hy thought they'd ever flown before, their protectiveness and rage on hys behalf roaring like fire through the bond between them. Only a few heartbeats had passed since hy had realized what was happening and cried out.

Below, the would-be murderers were still staring in shock. There hadn't been any time for them to react yet. And Sanfe and Valar were just moments away.

And hy knew that once they got here, in the next few moments, there would be nothing the murderers below would be able to do to protect themselves from their wrath.

[We're here!] Sanfe and Valar's combined voice shouted in hys mind, and a moment later they were there on the rock beside hym, and without hesitation, hy was leaping onto their back, the warm metal of Valar's skin burning off the chill of the morning air as it liquified and flowed up and down hys body to gift hym tyr strength and protection, merging the three bodies into one.

As one, pley beat their powerful wings and leapt back into the air, cycling the fans and systems start up for pleir beam attack, pleir combined fury overloading the emote systems and causing sparks to flare up and crackle on pleir skin as they twisted and dove, screaming pleir rage to the sky, on the people below.

The murderers tried to run. Some tried to flee back the way they'd come down the long road, others turned towards the house they'd planned to attack. But none of escaped the living fury descending upon them.

Pley slammed two of the six to the ground beneath pleir front legs and chest as pley landed, crushing both with the impact, and smashed a third with the club on pleir tail. The fourth was stabbed through the back by their smaller, detatched form as he tried to run.

The fifth murderer turned to fight, and managed to tackle pleir smaller form to the ground with a desperate scream, furiously bashing at any part of plem he could reach with the steel mace pley'd never been able to forget, before pleir larger form grabbed him in pleir mouth and threw him immediately to the ground, unable to bite through the chainmail that only he wore as armour around his torso and legs.

But he wasn't wearing a helmet, and within moments he was dead, and pleir teeth were steaming with his blood, even as the roar of pleir charging beam increased to a shriek as the weapon became fully primed.

The sixth was still running, at an all out sprint, down the straight, open road to the hills long in the distance. He wasn't trying to hide, because there was nowhere to hide.

Pleir beam tore across the distance like an arrow, burning him to ashes in mid step before pley snapped their head up to discharge the rest of the energy into the empty sky.

And then there was no one left to fight. Only one of the men was still alive, and that didn't last long as pleir larger form put an end to him with a quick snap of pleir jaws.

The rush of adrenaline began to fade, and it was only then that pley realized that pleir smaller form was still on the ground where pley'd been knocked, and that there was pain scratching at the edges of pleir awareness past the rush rage still screaming in pleir heads.

The sudden realization that pleir smaller form was hurt sent a spike of fear through pleir hearts, and almost instantly upon that realization, all of pleir amour was retracted back into Valar alone, and suddenly, for just a few seconds of awareness, hy was just hymself again, lying on the ground, unable to see for the blood in hys eyes, hys every sense swamped with pain--

And then hy lost conciosness, and floated into the familiar dark embrace of the soul bond.

Hy reached out weakly, and could just barely sense through Sanfe and Valar's minds that their actions had not gone unnoticed by hys family. But holding on to those glimpses of sight, sound, and thoughts was too draining to sustain, and hy had to let go again or risk sinking too far into the depths to ever resurface.

All hy could do was float in the darkness, too exhausted to feel any anxiety, waiting to wake up again, and trust that hys partners would do what they could to keep everyone safe. Hys family was not going to react positively to a dragonrider they wouldn't recognize as their child comitting what seemed like a senseless massacre within a stone's throw of their home where their children slept.

#long post #short story #writing prompts #short stories #pronouns #neopronouns #neopronouns in action #neopronoun short story #neopronoun writing prompts #neopronoun short stories #hy/hym #hy/hym/hys/hymself #hy/hym pronouns #hyhympronouns #pley/plem #shy/shyr #ty/tyr

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