the opposite of following your bliss (Gen, PG)
the opposite of following your bliss
Pairing: none
Warnings: trans!Mikey
Summary: If they were both sisters it would be different, but she’s never thought of Gerard like that. And then, just once, she lets herself think of the two of them as brothers, and that.
That fits. That fits, and it terrifies her, in an abstract way. The idea that she feels like Gerard’s little brother.
Word Count: 937
A/N: Unbetaed snipped I'd had lying around on my computer. It's from last December, and I figured it's post it now or post it never. Title from Invisible Monsters.
Mikey Way is a lot of things.
She’s taller than almost everyone she knows. She’s gangly. Her hipbones jut out and she stands just a little crookedly, knees together. She has glasses and her hair doesn’t look like it belongs in a magazine. She falls in love with bands like others fall in love with boyfriends. She likes talking about tattoos she wants because she knows she can freak her brother out by doing it. She’s sharp where he isn’t and soft where he is. He’s her favorite person in the whole world, her best friend, and she knows it’s not normal, but she doesn’t care. She’s fifteen years old and it’s her against the world, and if the world doesn’t bend when she touches it, it leaves her uncertain and off-center. She wants the world to fit because she can't.
She’s changing, and she doesn’t like it.
In a week she’ll start her sophomore year of high school. She doesn’t want to think about it. At home in the basement with Gerard is a safe place, the safest she knows. She doesn’t leave it much, and not without him. He’s her security blanket and she’s not letting go until she has to. He’s her armor.
But she doesn’t feel like his sister.
Sister isn’t-brothers and sisters aren’t supposed to be best friends. It’s why she gets teased at school, apart from everything else-people think what they have is inappropriate. They think they’re too close. Brothers and sisters. If they were both sisters it would be different, but she’s never thought of Gerard like that. And then, just once, she lets herself think of the two of them as brothers, and that.
That fits. That fits, and it terrifies her, in an abstract way. The idea that she feels like Gerard’s little brother. Like it’s written across her face because he’s always known the kind of thoughts she has. The thought of brother leads into everything else and it’s worse, so much worse, because she has enough trouble being a normal girl as is, she doesn’t need it.
It’s scattered, vague memories of making everyone call her ‘he’ when she was a baby because she wanted to be just like Gerard, liking the same things, having the same friends. Memories of wearing his clothes that one time, just to see what it would be like. Looking down at herself and thinking I don’t look like him and why not? That’s not fair.
She locks the door, heart beating fast, and pulls her t-shirt off over her head. Her jeans follow, pushed down and kicked off. She unhooks her bra and slips out of it, slides down her underwear. And then she’s naked in the middle of the room, walking steadily over to the mirror even as her hands are shaking. She doesn’t know why.
“Mikey Way,” she says, out loud, and feels awkward as soon as she does. She doesn’t even want to meet her own eyes in her reflection. “You are so bad at being normal.”
“I know,” she answers herself, looking into the mirror. She looks down her body, at the slim, sharp angles of it, the way her knees are just a little too knobbly, at her breasts, small but large enough to bother her. Something isn’t quite right. She scowls at herself, reaches up and covers her breasts with the palms of her hands like she’s trying to make the image in front of her more modest.
It changes the picture in front of her somehow. When she doesn’t have to focus on them, it makes it better. It makes her feel more like herself, more like what she was like before she started changing.
Maybe it’s a fear of growing up. Maybe it’s something else.
“I look like Gerard,” she sighs at her reflection, but no, that’s not quite right either. I look like a boy. Her stomach lurches. That’s-that is what she’s thinking and she can’t escape from that, as terrifying as the thought is. Is it okay to think that? Is it okay to want to be?
Gerard would know. Gerard would know but she doesn’t know if she can ask, admit to thinking things like that. If he disapproved of her or brushed it aside she wouldn’t know what to do. He’s the only stability she’s got. She doesn’t think he would say anything if he did, but the silence would be enough to break her.
Well, fuck him.
Just the thought is enough to give her a rush. He’s a security blanket, not a crutch. She can do this whether he approves of her or not. Do what? She doesn’t know that either. But her mind is rushing with thoughts she’s finally not suppressing, so fast it almost makes her dizzy.
Mikey Way looks at herself in the mirror and lets herself think well, maybe I am a boy. It sounds crazy, she feels crazy, but it’s the kind of crazy that makes herself feel like she’s about to jump out of a plane and she doesn’t know if her parachute will work or not. It’s exhilarating and terrifying and there’s no going back.
“Maybe I am.”
She’s had stranger thoughts.
And then another look into the mirror and this time it’s inescapably different. Somewhere along the way from one heartbeat to the next she stops and he begins.
Mikey Way makes another face at his reflection and reaches for his clothes to tug them back on. He has to unlock the door before Gerard tries to come in.
He feels strangely at peace.
Pairing: none
Warnings: trans!Mikey
Summary: If they were both sisters it would be different, but she’s never thought of Gerard like that. And then, just once, she lets herself think of the two of them as brothers, and that.
That fits. That fits, and it terrifies her, in an abstract way. The idea that she feels like Gerard’s little brother.
Word Count: 937
A/N: Unbetaed snipped I'd had lying around on my computer. It's from last December, and I figured it's post it now or post it never. Title from Invisible Monsters.
Mikey Way is a lot of things.
She’s taller than almost everyone she knows. She’s gangly. Her hipbones jut out and she stands just a little crookedly, knees together. She has glasses and her hair doesn’t look like it belongs in a magazine. She falls in love with bands like others fall in love with boyfriends. She likes talking about tattoos she wants because she knows she can freak her brother out by doing it. She’s sharp where he isn’t and soft where he is. He’s her favorite person in the whole world, her best friend, and she knows it’s not normal, but she doesn’t care. She’s fifteen years old and it’s her against the world, and if the world doesn’t bend when she touches it, it leaves her uncertain and off-center. She wants the world to fit because she can't.
She’s changing, and she doesn’t like it.
In a week she’ll start her sophomore year of high school. She doesn’t want to think about it. At home in the basement with Gerard is a safe place, the safest she knows. She doesn’t leave it much, and not without him. He’s her security blanket and she’s not letting go until she has to. He’s her armor.
But she doesn’t feel like his sister.
Sister isn’t-brothers and sisters aren’t supposed to be best friends. It’s why she gets teased at school, apart from everything else-people think what they have is inappropriate. They think they’re too close. Brothers and sisters. If they were both sisters it would be different, but she’s never thought of Gerard like that. And then, just once, she lets herself think of the two of them as brothers, and that.
That fits. That fits, and it terrifies her, in an abstract way. The idea that she feels like Gerard’s little brother. Like it’s written across her face because he’s always known the kind of thoughts she has. The thought of brother leads into everything else and it’s worse, so much worse, because she has enough trouble being a normal girl as is, she doesn’t need it.
It’s scattered, vague memories of making everyone call her ‘he’ when she was a baby because she wanted to be just like Gerard, liking the same things, having the same friends. Memories of wearing his clothes that one time, just to see what it would be like. Looking down at herself and thinking I don’t look like him and why not? That’s not fair.
She locks the door, heart beating fast, and pulls her t-shirt off over her head. Her jeans follow, pushed down and kicked off. She unhooks her bra and slips out of it, slides down her underwear. And then she’s naked in the middle of the room, walking steadily over to the mirror even as her hands are shaking. She doesn’t know why.
“Mikey Way,” she says, out loud, and feels awkward as soon as she does. She doesn’t even want to meet her own eyes in her reflection. “You are so bad at being normal.”
“I know,” she answers herself, looking into the mirror. She looks down her body, at the slim, sharp angles of it, the way her knees are just a little too knobbly, at her breasts, small but large enough to bother her. Something isn’t quite right. She scowls at herself, reaches up and covers her breasts with the palms of her hands like she’s trying to make the image in front of her more modest.
It changes the picture in front of her somehow. When she doesn’t have to focus on them, it makes it better. It makes her feel more like herself, more like what she was like before she started changing.
Maybe it’s a fear of growing up. Maybe it’s something else.
“I look like Gerard,” she sighs at her reflection, but no, that’s not quite right either. I look like a boy. Her stomach lurches. That’s-that is what she’s thinking and she can’t escape from that, as terrifying as the thought is. Is it okay to think that? Is it okay to want to be?
Gerard would know. Gerard would know but she doesn’t know if she can ask, admit to thinking things like that. If he disapproved of her or brushed it aside she wouldn’t know what to do. He’s the only stability she’s got. She doesn’t think he would say anything if he did, but the silence would be enough to break her.
Well, fuck him.
Just the thought is enough to give her a rush. He’s a security blanket, not a crutch. She can do this whether he approves of her or not. Do what? She doesn’t know that either. But her mind is rushing with thoughts she’s finally not suppressing, so fast it almost makes her dizzy.
Mikey Way looks at herself in the mirror and lets herself think well, maybe I am a boy. It sounds crazy, she feels crazy, but it’s the kind of crazy that makes herself feel like she’s about to jump out of a plane and she doesn’t know if her parachute will work or not. It’s exhilarating and terrifying and there’s no going back.
“Maybe I am.”
She’s had stranger thoughts.
And then another look into the mirror and this time it’s inescapably different. Somewhere along the way from one heartbeat to the next she stops and he begins.
Mikey Way makes another face at his reflection and reaches for his clothes to tug them back on. He has to unlock the door before Gerard tries to come in.
He feels strangely at peace.